AROUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 


AROUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 


A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  SIEERAS. 


BY 


A.   P.    REEDER. 


Love  rules  the  whole  wide  world;  though  lone  and  far 
Men  thread  the  piney  wastes  or  scale  the  bare 

And  sharp  Sierra  summits,  like  the  star 
Of  e veiling,  bright  aud  pure,  they  flud  him  there. 


SAN   FRANCISCO: 

SAMUEL   CARSON   AND   COMPANY, 
BOSTON:    CUPPLES  AND  KURD. 

1888. 


COPYRIGHT,  1888,  BY 
SAMUEL  PARSON  AND  COMPANY* 


TO 

THE  SHARER  IN  ITS   SUCCESSES  AND   MISFORTUNES, 
THIS  BOOK 

IS     G  R  A  T  K FULLY     DEDICATED     BY 

THE    AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP.  PAGB 

I.  A  STRANGER  IN  TOWN       ......  9 

II.  A  STAGE  ROAD  IN  THE  SIERBAS    ....  23 

III.  A  STOP  AT  ROBINSON'S       ......  37 

IV.  A  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  DOCTOR   .        .        •        .        .  49 
V.  LOVE'S  LATE  BLOSSOMING .61 

VI.  UNSEEN  OBSERVERS        .                 ....  73 

VII.  A  CITY  GIRL'S  ADVENTURE       .....  91 

VIII.  AN  AFIERNOON  AT  LOCUSTVILLE            .        .        .  107 

IX.  EDWARD'S  HOME 120 

X.  SUPERINTENDENT  SEVENOAKES  OF  THE  LUCKY  STREAK  136 

XI.  IN  THE  GLOAMING 144 

XII.  SUMMER  SCHEMES 154 

XIII.  TRIFLING 167 

XIV.  THE  TUNNEL  AT  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP      .        .        .  181 
XV.  THE  ESTRANGEMENT 196 

XVI.  THE  STRIKE 208 

XVII.  THE  GHOST  IN  THE  ROSE  ARBOR       ....  226 

XVIII.  ONE  NIGHT  AROUND  THE  MILL      ....  241 

XIX.  THE  DOCTOR'S  SUMMER  DREAMS        •        •        «        •  256 

XX.  THE  FINAL  RECKONING 268 

XXI.  THE  FADING  DREAM "  .276 

XXII.  THE  FIRE 290 

XXIII.  AFTER  THE  FIRE        . 305 


8 


CONTENTS. 


XIV.  SAD  MEMORIES .        .  317 

XXV.  THE  PARTING 326 

XXVI.  MEMORIES  OF  THE  SAN  JOAQUIN     ....  347 

XXVH.  Lois  AT  HOME 369 

XXVIII.  THE  CONFESSION 393 

XXIX.  THE  DRIVE  UP  THE  LEAFY  GRADE     ...  414 

XXX.  EDWARD  DENNETT'S  FORTUNES       ....  442 

XXXI.  MABEL'S  JOURNEY 469 

XXXII.  THE  FULFILMENT 475 

XXXIII.  THE  MILLENNIUM  OF  THE  HEART  484 


AEOOTD  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 


CHAPTER    I. 

A    STRANGER   IN   TOWN. 

Ye  sentinels  of  sleep,  it  is  in  vain  ye  keep 
Your  drowsy  watch  before  the  Ivory  Gate, 

Though  closed  the  portal  seems,  the  airy  feet  of  dreams 
Ye  cannot  thus  in  walls  incarcerate. 

LONGFELLOW. 

SCHOOL  was  out  at  the  little  red  school-house,  and 
the  wild-voiced  children  went  noisily  down  the  village 
street,  stopping  here  and  there  to  note  the  new  sights 
about  town  since  their  confinement  in  school,  or  to 
chat  in  little  groups  before  separating  to  go  home. 
But  the  neat  little  school-mistress  sat  at  her  desk 
with  her  hands  folded,  just  as  she  did  when  the  last 
careless  footstep  sounded  down  the  stairs,  motionless 
still,  and  thinking,  with  a  sad,  dreamy  look  in  her 
eyes.  Home  !  what  would  it  be  to  her  to  go  home  !  — 
to  sit  cosily  again  with  Aunt  Robinson  and  the  girls, 
and  John  too;  to  see  the  old  house  with  its  rough, 
weather-stained  walls,  its  one  bright  patch  of  white 
wash  gleaming  through  the  green  trees,  —  she  won 
dered  if  even  that  were  there  yet;  and  then  the  cows, 
and  the  lazy  old  horses,  Tip  the  dog,  and  even  that 


20  AKOT7ND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

pretty  nest  of  warm,  helpless  liitle  kittens,  which 
must  have  developed  into  a  host  of  great  ungainly 
cats  since  she  left  home  five  years  ago.  The  tears 
started  to  her  eyes  as  she  thought  of  it,  —  up  among 
the  hills  green  with  the  mantle  of  spring,  and  in  the 
pine  groves  where  the  breezes  made  weird  songs  among 
the  swaying  plumes;  where  the  streams  were  clsar 
and  deep  and  cold,  rushing  from  their  snow  fountains 
down  dark  rocky  channels  to  the  rivers;  and  where 
the  heavy,  hright-painted  stages,  and  the  dusty,  slow 
mule-teams  made  daily  trips  up  and  down  the  rod 
winding  roads,  bringing  news  and  a  breath  of  excite 
ment  with  each  arrival.  Now  vacation  was  coming, 
and  there  was  still  work  for  her  to  do;  but  she  felt  a 
longing  to  see  the  old  home  and  the  familiar  faces 
again.  She  almost  decided  to  go,  anyway,  —  to  leave 
her  busy  round  of  cares  for  just  one  little  season  of 
relaxation;  to  be  home  and  free  once  more,  and  forget 
all  about  the  dark,  noisy  world  shut  away  by  her  own 
high  hills,  and  the  fair  blue  skies  bending  tenderly 
around,  as  if  to  keep  out  all  jar  and  discord,  and  hold 
within  the  wild  sweet  solitude  and  the  old  primeval 
glory  of  the  mountains. 

She  rose  excitedly;  the  dingy  wrJln  had  changed  to 
flower-starred  slopes,  the  wind  whistling  at  the  win 
dows  to  trilling  lark-songs,  and  even  the  white  misty 
cobwebs  up  around  the  ceiling  to  flecks  of  snowy  cloud 
in  a  warm  bright  sky.  The  breath  of  the  pines  was 
in  the  air,  and  the  strange  inspiration  of  the  old  home 
life  all  around  her,  as  she  walked  dreamily  out,  me 
chanically  locked  the  door,  and  wended  her  way  down 
the  shady  streets  of  the  village. 


A   STRANGER   IN   TOWN.  11 

Coming  up  through  the  locust-trees,  on  a  slow  jog, 
was  an  odd  little  two-wheeled  cart,  shiny  and  black, 
and  a  smart-looking,  cream-white  horse  that  felt  the 
importance  of  its  energetic  appearance,  and  so  could 
afford  to  step  high  if  not  far,  thus  making  little 
progress  over  the  ground.  A  gentleman  lounging  on 
the  high,  wide  seat  seemed  to  be  not  half  so  much 
the  proprietor  of  the  rig  as  the  sharp-looking,  lazy 
horse;  for  he  sat  at  ease,  gazing  meditatively  out  on 
one  side,  with  the  lines  slack  in  his  left  hand,  the 
other  resting  on  a  huge,  long  whip  that  looked  like  a 
fishing-rod,  and  was  always  getting  into  trouble  with 
the  trees  bending  over  the  road.  He  was  stout,  with 
a  florid  face  and  gray  hair,  and  wore  long  yellow 
gauntlets  and  a  closely  buttoned  coat.  Drawing  near 
er,  he  caught  sight  of  the  school-mistress,  and  as  he 
pulled  up  the  reins,  the  white  horse  came  to  a  dead 
halt.  His  countenance  fairly  beamed,  and  a  good- 
natured  smile  broadened  out  almost  into  a  laugh. 

"Well,  well,  —  hello!"  he  said.  "Long  way  from 
home,  Nettie;  did  n't  expect  to  see  you  here.  Jump  in 
and  take  a  spin  now.  Jump  right  in  here,  —  plenty  of 
room,  —  and  let  me  see  you,  —  ah-h!"  He  had  a  deep, 
slow  voice,  hesitating- and  half  breathless,  and  finished 
with  a  long-drawn  "ah-h!"  as  if  he  meant  to  say  more 
but  decided  not  to,  and  turned  his  hesitation  into  a 
vocal  clearing  of  his  throat.  He  sat  for  a  moment 
and  stared  at  her,  standing  wonder-struck  and  large- 
eyed  under  the  trees;  then  a  confused  expression 
gradually  neutralized  the  smile  and  his  flushed  face 
grew  redder,  he  gave  the  reins  a  spasmodic  jerk,  said 
hurriedly,  "Beg  pardon,  —  pardon,  mn'am;  I'm  mis- 


12  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

taken,"  and  was  off  down  the  road,  urging  the  high- 
stepping  horse  into  a  faster  trot,  the  fish-rod  whip 
sailing  majestically  through  the  air,  and  the  flush  on 
his  face  extending  even  around  to  the  back  of  his  neck. 
The  school-mistress  turned  to  look  after  him,  and  burst 
into  a  little  peal  of  laughter.  It  had  all  happened  in 
a  moment,  —  the  picture  of  the  stout  man  riding  up  in 
the  cart,  the  sudden  stop,  his  face  illumined  with  pleas 
ure,  the  blank  stare,  and  the  sudden  departure,  when 
the  slow  horse  affected  to  be  in  very  much  of  a  hurry, 
though  in  reality  taking  her  time.  She  watched  till 
a  bend  in  the  road  showed  the  side  view  of  the  cart  and 
horse,  winding  in  and  out,  and  the  last  glimpse  sho 
caught  was  of  the  yellow  gauntlets  gleaming  rich  and 
bright  through  the  green  foliage  of  the  locusts. 

Farewell  now,  charmed  visions  of  home  and  hills, 
and  the  dreamy  atmosphere  of  long  ago!  It  was  in 
vain  she  sought  to  revive  her  pleasant  reverie;  the 
quaint  scene  she  had  just  passed  through  rose  up  irre 
sistibly  before  her,  and  would  not  be  banished. 

All  the  way  home  she  thought  of  it,  and  in  the  even 
ing  when  she  sat  down  to  write  to  Aunt  Robinson 
and  the  girls,  to  tell  them  how  she  had  been  hoping 
for  a  quiet  rest  with  them  during  the  long,  hot  vaca 
tion,  she  could  not  resist  putting  in  a  brief  account  of 
the  affair,  and  excused  it  by  saying  she  supposed  he 
was  thinking,  like  herself,  of  some  one  far  away.  Bet 
ter  had  she  left  it  out;  for*writing  of  it  only  fastened  it 
more  firmly  in  her  mind,  and  all  night  long,  instead  of 
dreaming  of  incorrigible  youth  planning  mischief  and 
making  a  noise,  she  saw  lazy  white  horses  hitched  to 
high-wheeled  gigs,  and  yellow  gloves,  appearing  by 


A   STRANGER   IN   TOWN.  13 

dozens,  —  weaving  and  spinning  around,  this  way  and 
that,  among  the  locust  groves;  and  they  all  came  up  to 
her  and  stopped,  and  sometimes  the  stout  man  laughed 
and  threw  a  kiss  to  her;  and  sometimes  he  was  think 
ing  deeply,  and  only  saw  her  just  before  he  passed,  and 
then  would  stop  and  smile  faintly;  and  yet  again  he 
seemed  in  a  great  hurry,  but  was  sadly  delayed  by  his 
big  whip  getting  caught  in  all  the  tree  branches,  and 
when  opposite  her  under  the  tall  tree  he  had  to  stop 
short,  so  she  helped  him  by  pushing  the  boughs  aside 
with  her  parasol;  until  finally  he  came  up  with  brighter 
gloves,  and  looked  handsome  and  young  and  spirited, 
and  she  climbed  into  the  gig  and  rode  away;  and  after 
that  she  saw  herself  in  all  the  gigs,  and  they  all  had 
much  brighter  wheels,  and  rolled  a  great  deal  faster, 
and  they  never  stopped  any  more,  but  kept  right  on, 
winding  here  and  there  among  the  trees  that  suddenly 
burst  forth  into  creamy  showers  of  blossoms,  and  hung 
down  long  fragrant  garlands  into  the  path,  forming  an 
avenue  walled  and  canopied  with  swinging  festoons  of 
odorous  flowers  through  which  the  golden  sunshine 
sifted  in  glinting  floods  of  light. 

Next  day  she  forgot  it,  almost,  busied  with  the  well- 
worn  pages  of  her  books,  and  the  chattering  little  flock 
of  children  gathered  for  her  care  and  instruction;  so 
that  when  the  time  came  to  go  home,  she  only  gave  it  a 
fleeting  thought  as  she  passed  under  the  great  tree  where 
the  scene  had  transpired.  But  when  she  reached  the 
house  where  she  lived,  —  great  sight  of  sights!  —  it 
stood  there,  the  gig  of  yesterday,  the  gig  of  her  dreams, 
and  the  plump,  bright-eyed  horse  hitched  to  the  post 
in  front  of  the  gate.  She  paused  and  looked  at  it,  al- 


14  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

most  afraid  to  enter,  while  her  whole  existence  seemed 
shaped  into  one  great  interrogation  point  asking  the 
meaning  of  this  strange  vehicle  haunting  her  by  day 
and  night;  hut  presently  she  caught  sight  of  the  gen 
tleman  who  had  ridden  it,  standing  among  the  trees 
that  grew  in  front  of  the  house.  He  had  been  walking 
listlessly  back  and  forth,  the  yellow*gloved  hands  folded 
behind  him,  and  absorbed  in  deep  thought,  as  he  was 
the  day  before  when  she  first  saw  him.  As  she  came 
through  the  gate  he  advanced  to  meet  her,  and  said  po 
litely,  "  Miss  Lois  Warren,  I  believe?  "  at  the  same  time 
presenting  his  card,  which  read,  "  Franklyn  Knapp, 
M.  D." 

"  I  called  to  sec  you  to-day,"  he  said,  "  and  Mrs. 
Mills  informing  me  that  you  were  still  at  school,  I  in 
vited  myself  out  into  the  garden  to  wait  for  you,  find 
ing  it  much  cooler  and  pleasanter  than  the  house." 

"0,  certainly,"  she  replied;  "will  you  take  a  seat 
here  under  the  trees  ?  " 

His  preoccupied  manner  had  changed  to  one  some 
what  more  nervous  and  excited,  and  he  sat  down,  pull 
ing  off  his  gauntlets  and  smoothing  them  out  carefully 
on  his  knee. 

"  I  understand,  Miss  Warren,  that  you  are  the  teacher 
of  the  school  of  our  village,  —  a  pleasant  vocation;  and 
I,  perhaps,  will  be  the  doctor,  —  that  is,  if  all  things 
con  10  out  agreeably.  I  presume  you  all  know  my 
brother,  Dr.  Mc/lville  Knapp,  who  has  practised  here 
for  twenty  years  or  thereabout,  is  going  away, —  to 
the  East,  in  fact,  —  circumstances  making  it  neces 
sary;  and  I  have  been  appointed  to  his  place  in  the 
hospital  of  our  neighboring  town,  and  his  successor  in 


A   STRANGER   IN   TOWN.  15 

practice  generally,  perchance.  I  am  quite  delighted 
with  this  little  place,  —  its  pleasant  homes  and  locust- 
lined  streets,  —  and  I  find,  so  far,  the  people  are  not  be 
hind  the  town  in  agrceablencss.  They  have  received 
me  very  warmly,  and  have  promised  co-operation  in  all 
my  plans.  But  I  have  been  told  to  apply  to  you  for  a 
little  assistance,  —  ah-h!" — growing  more  flushed  and 
slightly  agitated,  —  "  since  you  are  recommended  as  a 
young  lady  always  interested  in  schemes  for  the  public 
benefit,  or  willing  to  help  a  good  cause;  and  knowing 
that  a  young  person  has  more  time,  if  not  always  the 
inclination,  to  devote  outside  of  home,  I  thought  it 
possible  you  would  assist  me,  —  ah-h  I  " 

"  Most  willingly,"  Lois  replied,  heartily,  "if  it  lies  in 
my  power." 

"  0,  yes,  I  guess  so,  —  I  think  so,"  said  the  Doctor; 
"  almost  any  lady  could  do  what  I  wish  done.  It  is 
for  the  benefit  of  my  patients  in  the  hospital.  I  main 
tain,  Miss  Warren,  that  an  unhappy  state  of  the  mind 
can  and  often  does  produce  illness.  Still  more  so,  in 
protracted  or  chronic  cases  of  sickness,  the  mind  be 
comes  almost  diseased  from  brooding  over  physical 
suffering;  consequently  the  spirits  are  depressed,  the 
action  of  the  heart  weakened,  the  circulation  of  the 
blood  lessened,  and  then  of  course  the  whole  system  in 
jured;  and  not  the  least  of  the  evils,  in  an  impaired 
physical  condition,  is  this  deranged  action  of  the  mind, 
because  an  unhealthy  brain  acting  through  the  sym 
pathetic  system  of  nerves,  does  double  damage  to  the 
poor,  weak  body.  But  catch  the  spark  of  interest  that 
is  not  absorbed  in  the  miseries  of  illness,  and  cultivate 
without  wearying  it,  give  it  a  change,  —  a  variety,  —  and 


16  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

we  have  toned  the  mind  and  rested  the  body  more  than 
half  a  dozen  prescriptions  could  do.  And  day  by  day, 
as  the  hour  comes  for  a  little  change  from  the  long, 
wearing  uneasiness  of  lying  and  aimlessly  waiting  from 
sleepless  night  to  agonizing  day,  the  pleasure  of  antici 
pation  helps  our  good  labor,  and  relieves  the  monotony 
quite  as  well  as  what  we  do  to  interest  the  mind.  Na 
ture  is  man's  best  physician.  She  herself  must  build 
up  and  make  things  strong  and  secure  again.  It  is 
only  when  active  poisons  are  at  work  that  drugs  do 
good,  to  counteract  and  neutralize  the  damaging  cause. 
And  when  evil  effects  result  from  perverted  functions, 
the  physician's  work  lies  in  doing  something  to  restrain 
their  action;  or  in  an  accident,  to  soothe  and  ease  pain, 
and  assist  nature  somewhat,  this  way  and  that,  remove 
foreign  substances,  sew  up  wounds,  place  fractured  bones 
in  position,  and  the  like;  but  that  is  as  nothing  com 
pared  with  what  nature  herself  must  do.  It  is  as  if 
the  whole  machinery  of  life  were  reversed, — its  wheels 
turned  backward ;  and  we  can  sometimes  stop  their 
false  movement  and  set  them  straight,  but  we  never 
can  make  them  work  in  the  right  direction  again:  that 
is  nature's  duty,  —  nature's  work ;  and  when  she  is  help 
less  to  aid  us,  when  she  is  powerless  and  worn  out,  the 
machinery  that  cannot  move  forward  stops,  and  we  call 
it  death.  And  so  if  we  are  not  able  to  prevent  damage 
done  by  body  to  mind,  we  must  strive  to  hinder  the 
mind  from  retaliating  upon  the  poor,  irresponsible 
body,  by  doing  a  like  wrong  in  return.  That  is  helping 
nature,  you  see,  in  her  perfect  action;  for  a  strong  body 
strengthens  the  brain,  and  a  well-balanced,  active,  right- 
working  brain  is  about  the  only  thing  that  can  keep  the 


A   STRANGER  IN  TOWN.  17 

body  in  good  repair.  And  thus,  of  course,  the  reverse 
in  illness:  both  do  damage  instead  of  good,  and  will 
often  keep  it  up,  too,  unless  we  stop  it,  for  nature  has 
to  move,  —  if  not  right,  then  wrong. 

"But,  Miss  Warren,  I  fear  I  am  giving  you  a  medical 
lecture.  However,  I  feel  it  not  inopportune  to  explain 
unmistakably  the  use  of  what  I  shall  ask  you  to  do  for 
me.  In  your  work,  an  excellent  good  fortune  places  in 
your  way  and  under  your  notice  the.  best  thoughts  of 
our  best  authors;  you  know  where  to  find  choice  light 
reading:  not  always  books,  —  seldom  books;  but  little 
pictures  drawn  in  brief  sketches,  short  stories,  pleas 
ant  thoughts  about  pleasant  subjects, — they  must  all 
be  very  cheerful,  —  which  you  might  collect.  They 
should  be  printed  in  large  type:  sick  people  often 
have  weak  eyes,  or  if  not,  they  ought  to,  because 
when  they  do  not,  it  is  a  perversion  of  the  sense  of 
sight  that  should  not  be  cultivated  in  its  unnatural 
state;  besides,  effort  in  vision  reacts  on  the  general 
system,  and  thus  militates  against  steady  progress 
toward  recovery;  and  hence  our  reading-matter  had 
best  be  given  out  in  small  instalments  from  day  to 
day,  to  keep  up  interest.  And  then  sketches  or  pic 
tures  for  the  weaker  patients, — bright  ones,  but  small 
and  light,  so  they  can  be  easily  handled  and  seen;  and 
for  the  very  ill,  or  for  a  variety,  flowers  in  fresh  little 
bunches, —  fragrant  ones  are  best,  but  those  without  a 
strong  perfume,  and  those  that  do  not  readily  wither. 
And  last,  once  in  a  while  to  prepare  me  a  few  dishes 
that  I  will  describe  to  you;  I  like  them  done  under  my 
express  direction,  \,ith  ingredients  strictly  measured 
and  always  of  the  best;  so  I  must  have  it  done  where 
I  can  be  sure  of  that. 


18  AROUND   TIIE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

"And  now,  for  your  services,  which  will  of  course 
take  up  some  of  your  leisure  time,  I  will  make  you  any 
compensation  you  ask;  for  your  assistance  will  be  in 
dispensable." 

While  he  was  speaking,  the  pleasant  face  of  the  little 
school-mistress  had  lighted  up  with  enthusiasm.  She 
was  a  helpful,  busy  girl,  and  in  her  natural  sphere 
when  carrying  out  some  plan  of  this  nature,  so  she 
said  quickly,  — 

"  Compensation,  —  certainly  not ,  sir.  The  work  itself 
would  be  such  a  pleasure  I  could  ask  no  other  reward. 
I  enter  into  it  with  the  heartiest  approval.  Let  me 
commence  soon,  too,  if  you  will;  I  am  even  anxious  to 
begin." 

"Good!  "said  the  Doctor, — "very  good.  You  are 
just  the  best  young  lady  I  could  find,  for  you  are  both 
sympathetic  and  energetic, —  two  very  fine  qualities, — 
very  helpful  qualities.  Indeed,  I  was  told,"  —  growing 
red  again,  and  drawing  on  his  gloves  hurriedly, — 
"it  was  mentioned  that  you  would  be  more  interested 
in  such  a  scheme  than  any  other  person;  because  in 
clination  is  a  necessary  thing,  Miss  Warren,  —  an  in 
valuable  thing,  —  ah-h!  And  about  the  compensation, 
we  must  consider  it  later  if  you  will  not  hear  of  it  now. 
I  will  call  the  day  after  to-morrow  for  your  first  contri 
bution  to  my  patients,  which  I  feel  assured  will  be  a  first- 
quality  one, —  a  well-selected  one.  I  visit  the  hospital  at 
least  three  times  a  week,  and  if  you  will  prepare  some 
thing  for  each  regular  trip,  I  should  like  it  well.  I  am 
very  happy  to  have  found  you,  Miss  Warren,  —  to  have 
met  you,"  he  said,  rising  and  bowing;  "it  is  a  most 
fortunate  thing  for  me  as  well  as  for  my  patients,  I  am 


A    STRANGER   IN   TOWN.  19 

sure;  so  allow  me  to  offer  my  most  sincere  thanks. 
Good  day." 

Then  he  was  off  down  the  garden  path,  hastily  un 
tying  his  horse,  and  preparing  for  departure,  —  all  of 
which  took  up  a  great  deal  of  time,  notwithstanding 
his  apparent  hurry;  and  as  he  rode  away,  he  looked 
around  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  Lois  under  the  trees, 
which  caused  him  to  smile  good-naturedly,  and  raise 
his  hat  with  an  air  of  great  deference.  Vanishing  down 
the  road  she  saw  the  shiny  gig  and  its  cream-white 
horse  raising  the  dust  in  little  clouds,  as  if  moving 
rapidly,  but  it  was  in  sight  for  a  long  while,  and  so  she 
had  ample  time  to  take  another  good  view  of  it  from  her 
seat  in  the  garden. 

This  little  school-mistress  was  not  of  an  uncommon 
stamp,  in  many  particulars;  she  was  quick  and  lively, 
ambitious  and  fond  of  work,  pleasant  to  others,  and 
cheerful  herself;  but  she  possessed  one  rare  virtue,  —  a 
warm,  generous  heart,  and  power  to  execute  its  dictates. 
Left  an  orphan,  she  had  been  adopted  when  quite 
young  by  a  family  named  Robinson,  and  had  grown  up 
strong  and  sweet-tempered  and  natural,  among  the 
quiet  hills;  and  being  of  a  studious  disposition,  she  had 
remained  at  school  longer  than  the  other  children  of 
the  family,  and  so  became  a  teacher.  It  was  not  a 
lack  of  love  for  her  home  and  the  early  scenes  of  her 
life  that  made  her  thus  aspire  to  leave  them,  but  rather 
a  desire  for  a  greater  independence,  and  a  broader  field 
of  action;  her  surplus  strength  created  a  desire  to  use 
it,  and  so  she  was  ambitious  for  herself  and  for  all 
those  around  her.  She  had  a  neat,  charming  way  of 
doing  little  favors,  just  at  the  right  time  and  in  the 


20  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

quickest  and  best  mode,  which  made  friends  for  her; 
yet  she  was  so  gentle  and  sunny,  lacking  showy  sparkle 
and  personal  brilliancy,  that  she  excited  little  envy  by 
the  good-will  she  had  won.  Every  one  liked  her:  and 
why  should  they  not?  —  when  she  was  agreeable  and 
helpful  and  kind,  always  planning  and  doing,  and  using 
every  moment. 

Let  us  skip  one  period  in  the  life  of  the  school-mis 
tress;  it  was  a  happy,  joyous  time,  that  would  surely 
have  brought  out  all  her  native  charity  and  usefulness; 
but  when  she  lost  the  crowning  happiness,  and  a  great. 
Borrow  entered  into  her  life,  her  disappointment  no  less 
surely  called  them  out  in  plans  and  work  for  others. 
She  was  not  a  girl  to  give  up  to  mourning  and  sadness; 
she  buried  her  love, —  the  one  true,  earnest  love  that 
Bhe  had  known,  —  and  took  up  the  busy  thread  of 
work  cheerfully  and  steadfastly.  Friends  looked  on 
and  sympathized,  and  after  a  while  forgot  it,  thinking 
she  too  had  forgotten;  though  deep  down  in  her  heart 
she  held  it  sacred  and  unchangeable. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  Lois  Warren  took  a  deep  in 
terest  in  the  Doctor's  scheme.  It  was  the  work  to 
which  she  had  dedicated  her  life,  —  a  life  not  burdened 
by  a  living  woe,  but  one  even  happy  in  its  subdued 
joys,  and  unhindered  in  its  generous  outpourings  of 
kindness. 

She  sat  thinking  of  it,  and  of  the  Doctor  too,  under 
the  trees  where  he  had  talked  with  her,  and  presently  a 
wild  freak  of  imagination  pictured  her  dream  over 
again,  in  thousands  of  tiny  gigs  and  horses  climbing 
up  a  glossy  grape-vine  near  her;  she  could  even  sec 
the  yellow  gloves  and  the  high  wheels;  and  some  of 


A   STRANGER  IN   TOWN.  21 

the  gigs  got  into  difficulties  passing  over  the  leaves, 
and  many  fell  partly  down  the  vine  and  had  to  work 
their  way  up  again;  and  the  little  white  horses  were 
lazy,  just  like  the  big  white  one  the  Doctor  had,  and 
so  they  moved  very  slowly,  and  often  got  tangled 
together.  But  finally  one  gig,  which  looked  smaller 
than  the  rest,  started  up  a  leaf  and  made  itself  con 
spicuous  by  having  an  immense  whip  twice  as  long  as 
the  horse  itself,  and  reminded  her  of  an  ant  carrying  a 
long  straw.  It  had  an  uncomfortable  time,  and  was 
stopped  on  several  occasions,  until  at  last  the  great 
whip  struck  a  tendril  just  above  it,  the  horse  lost  its 
balance,  and  the  whole  thing  fell  to  the  ground,  mak 
ing  a  loud  rustle  in  the  grass.  Lois  started  and  opened 
her  eyes,  feeling  as  if  she  had  been  far  away,  while 
near  her  she  caught  sight  of  little  Jimmie  Mills  creep 
ing  through  the  grass  and  throwing  a  marble  toward 
her. 

"  Nonsense! "  she  said  to  herself  as  she  rose  and 
brushed  the  leaves  from  her  dress.  "Absurdity  the 
second!  What  do  I  mean  by  allowing  that  everlasting 
cart  to  make  such  an  impression  on  busy,  matter-of- 
fact  me  ?  Begone,  visions  !  I  wonder  how  long  I  've 
been  here  wasting  time,  —  worse  than  wasting  it,"  — • 
emphatically,  —  "when  work  awaits  me." 

"  Please,  Miss  Warren,"  said  Jimmie,  coming  toward 
her,  "  ma  sent  me  to  call  you  in  to  dinner." 

"  Dinner,  Jimmie!  —  is  it  time  for  that?" 

"  Yes,  of  course.  Ma  thought  you  stayed  out  hero 
awful  long  with  that  feller  what  comes  in  the  gig.  It 's 
plumb  dinner-time  now." 

"  I  must  have  been  asleep,"  thought  Lois.     "  And  oh! 


22  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

the  awful  vehicle  haunting  me  right  here  in  broad 
daylight!  I'll  not  think  of  it  any  more;  I'll  not 
even  look  at  it  again,"  she  said,  with  prompt  decision, 
and  turned  to  go  into  the  house;  but  her  attention  was 
arrested  by  a  dull,  buzzing  sound  out  in  the  road,  and 
Jimmie  saying  very  loudly,  "O,  just  look  there,  Miss 
Warren."  She  looked,  and  with  one  despairing  struggle 
renounced  her  resolution;  for  just  out  beyond  the  garden 
fence  she  saw  the  Doctor  passing,  smiling  and  taking 
off  his  hat  again  to  her;  he  was  returning  from  a  ride 
in  the  country,  whither  he  had  gone  when  she  watched 
him  disappear  from  sight,  and  now  was  driving  slowly 
homeward,  looking  out  on  one  side,  just  as  he  was  doing 
when  she  first  saw  him  in  his  horrible,  dream-haunting, 
never-to-be-forgotten  gig. 


A   STAGE    ROAD   IN   THE    SIERRAS.  23 


CHAPTER     II. 

A   STAGE   ROAD   IN   THE    SIERRAS. 

They  journeyed  o'er  a  piney  mountain  waste, 

And  through  the  vales  of  deep,  luxuriant  grass, 
And  reached  a  river's  tides,  that  purl  and  haste 
Through  walls  of  rock  with  gold  veins  interlaced, 
And  down  the  rugged  gorges  foaming  pass. 

"An,  the  mountains  of  snow!" — and  the  speaker 
leaned  out  of  the  window  of  the  rumbling  stage  to 
catch  a  fuller  view,  through  the  piney  sweeps  of  hills 
broken  by  a  curving  river,  of  the  snow  chain,  white 
and  pure  and  cool,  shining  serrated  and  clear  against 
the  pale  rose  setting  of  the  eastern  sky.  His  face 
lighted  up  with  a  smile  of  inspiration,  and  his  grave 
mood  gave  way  to  a  spirit  of  enthusiasm  while  he 
looked;  then  turning  to  his  companion  he  said,  more 
pleasantly  than  he  had  yet  spoken  in  all  the  course  of 
their  rough  journey,  "  Come,  look  through  the  moun 
tain  pass  at  the  glorious  glimpse  of  Paradise  opening 
before  us."  The  lady  seated  beside  him  locked  up 
with  a  supercilious  little  smile,  and  leaned  forward  to 
gaze  out  also  at  this  first  surprising  glimpse  of  the 
Sierras;  but  her  attention  was  more  closely  riveted  upon 
her  companion,  whom  she  watched  constantly,  to  read, 
if  she  could,  his  inmost  soul.  She  was  of  an  interesting 
and  peculiar  type,  —  a  blending  of  the  indolent  and  the 
cat-like  creature,  ever  on  the  watch,  even  in.  her  most 
dreamy  moments.  Tall  and  slender,  and  willowy  of 


24  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

motion,  there  was  still  a  charming  roundness  to  her 
figure,  suggestive  of  lily  stocks;  her  eyes  were  bluish 
gray,  her  hair  bright  auburn,  wound  artistically  about 
a  well-formed  head,  her  features  regular,  but  not  beau 
tiful,  and  her  skin  pure  white.  Sometimes,  when  her 
long  dark  lashes  swept  her  cheek,  and  her  face  wore  an 
expression  of  calm  repose,  on  a  closer  observance  one 
could  detect  a  sly,  quick  glance  upward  from  beneath 
those  silken  fringes,  and  a  slight  change  of  expression, 
not  the  most  ethereal  that  could  be  imagined.  Now 
she  sat  demurely  looking  out  upon  the  landscape,  the 
bright  glow  of  the  departing  day  casting  a  radiance 
over  her  fair  face,  framed  by  her  dark  mourning  vail 
thrown  backward,  and  over  her  neat  black  dress;  but 
quickly  now  and  then  she  stole  a  glance  at  the  man 
beside  her,  who  was  too  enrapt  with  the  wild  beauty  of 
the  mountains  to  take  note  of  aught  else  around,  except 
to  call  others  to  enjoy  it  also.  Finally  she  quietly 
leaned  back  and  made  his  face  her  only  study. 

The  stage  had  reached  the  top  of  a  long  grade,  where 
the  hills  below  fell  abruptly  in  unbroken  lines  to  the 
soft  belts  of  shining  white  sand  along  the  river  margin, 
while  an  opening  through  the  solid  rock-walls  seemed 
like  the  everlasting  gates  of  the  hills  thrown  open  to 
reveal,  beyond  the  long  stretches  of  mountain  waste, 
miles  and  miles  of  a  storm-tossed  sea  of  dark  green, 
fragrant  pine  reaching  upward  to  where  the  snow  peaks 
pierced  the  soft  bending  sky  with  a  hundred  gleaming 
summits.  It  was  spring.  The  full  glory  of  April's 
beauty  lay  over  the  hills  in  embroideries  of  gold  and 
azure,  the  scarlet  tongues  of  the  laurel  flamed  forth 
from  ferny  bank  and  jutting  crag,  and  the  thorny 


A   STAGE    ROAD   IN  THE    SIERRAS.  25 

masses  of  chaparral  breathed  out  a  strange,  drowsy  per 
fume  from  their  creamy  snow-fall  of  blossoms.  Twi 
light  was  coming.  Only  here  and  there  on  the  distant 
summits  the  dark  fir  points  caught  a  ray  of  red  sun 
light  streaming  through  the  hills,  and  down  in  the 
shadowy  gulches  the  crickets  set  up  a  weird  little  chirp 
that  echoed  shrilly  along  the  rocky  banks  till  lost  in 
the  dull,  deep  roar  of  the  river. 

At  last,  when  a  bend  of  the  road  brought  them  into 
a  tunnel-like  hollow,  the  high  walls  of  which  shut  out, 
with  fragrant,  cool  masses  of  madrono  and  manzanita, 
and  dewy,  climbing  vines,  the  glorious  panorama  of 
snow,  the  man  sank  back  as  if  reluctant  to  leave  its 
sublime  beauties  for  the  monotonies  of  the  journey,  and 
still  longed  to  keep  the  memory  of  it  while  yet  its  wild 
grandeur  held  a  spell  over  him;  but  he  caught  sight 
of  the  lady's  steady  glance,  and  instantly  a  change 
passed  across  his  features, —  a  look  of  disappointment 
that  she  had  not  enjoyed  the  charm  of  his  bright 
mountain  picture,  and  of  surprise  that  she  should 
thus  be  reading  his  face  in  an  unguarded  moment;  so 
he  quietly  gave  vent  to  only  one  little  word,  "Ah!" 
and  relapsed  into  silence.  She  started  slightly,  and 
colored  with  a  faint  flush,  so  delicate  that  it  could 
almost  be  mistaken  for  a  reflection  of  the  rose-tirited 
east;  but  these  were  the  only  signs  she  gave  of  discom 
fiture  at  being  caught  without  her  mask;  and  compos 
ing  herself  by  drawing  her  wrap  more  closely  about 
her,  she  looked  up  to  him  calmly,  and  said,  "Well?" 

"  You  do  not  enjoy  wild  scenery,  Miss  Nellie,"  he  re 
plied.  "  I  think  the  view  we  have  just  passed  superbly 
grand,  but  I  noticed  you  did  not  care  to  look.  If  I 


26  AROUND    THE    GOLDEN    DEEP. 

should  make  this  journey  a  hundred  times  a  year  I 
would  cheerfully  bear  all  the  fatigues  of  the  travel  with 
the  hope  of  that  scene  before  me." 

Now  was  her  chance,  a  good  one  for  this  sly,  scheming 
girl,  to  excuse  herself  with  a  winning  card.  So  with 
a  gentle  little  smile  she  returned  sweetly,  "  You  see  the 
sublimity  without,  while  I  admire  more  the  sublimity 
within." 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  and  looked  down  upon  her 
with  a  quiet,  half-amused  expression,  and  yet  for  a  face 
so  kindly  it  became  dangerously  near  being  one  of  pity 
and  disdain.  She  saw  her  mistake;  the  awkwardness 
of  the  moment  had  robbed  her  manner  and  words  of 
the  artistic  fitness  she  could  so  easily  summon  to  her 
aid,  and  she  knew  that  her  slight  discomposure  a  mo 
ment  before  when  he  caught  her  in  her  study  had  done 
the  mischief.  Though  it  had  troubled  her  but  slightly 
at  the  time,  it  now  threatened  a  greater  evil;  for  it  had 
so  overthrown  her  self-control  that  she  had  made  her 
self  almost  ridiculous  with  an  overdrawn  and  ineffective 
nnswcr.  His  "Thank  you,"  and  his  half-pitying  look, 
disturbed  her  greatly,  and  she  resolved  to  try  again, — 
to  do  or  say  something, —  anything  so  long  as  she  acted 
out  the  role  she  meant  to  play,  and  fortified  the  posi 
tion  she  had  assumed.  She  looked  grieved,  and  said 
in  a  subdued  tone,  as  if  he  had  made  light  of  her  most 
earnest  foolings,  "You  do  me  injustice  to  laugh  at  me, 
because  I  have  unfortunately  said  something  that 
sounded  out  of  place.  I  felt  what  I  said,  though  I  did 
not  say  it  at  all  elegantly.  What  I  really  meant  to 
say  is  this:  To  you  who  have  nothing  better,  it  is  beau 
tiful;  but  I,  who  love  mountains  maybe  as  well  as  you, 


A   STAGE   ROAD   IN  THE    SIERRAS.  27 

can  forego  the  pleasure  that  may  be  mine  at  any  time 
when  I  make  this  journey,  for  one  that  is  far  better  to 
me,  and  which  may  never  be  mine  again, — the  look  of 
undisguised  admiration  on  your  face,  Edward;  you  are 
so  grave  and  reserved  to  me  that  I  seldom  see  you  in 
your  natural  moods,  though  I  would  be  only  too  happy 
if  I  could  inspire  you  with  only  one  half  of  the  confi 
dence  you  awaken  in  me.  But  I  have  always  vainly 
tried  to  impress  you  with  what  I  really  do  feel.  Come, 
let  us  be  friends,  —  good  friends,  I  mean";  and  she 
held  out  her  hand  in  such  a  graceful  way,  with  a  look 
so  winning,  that  her  words  did  not  sound  ill-timed  or 
bold,  but  seemed  to  reveal  a  glimpse  of  a  soul  as  inno 
cent  and  lovely  as  a  child's.  It  had  the  desired  effect. 
Edward  Dennett's  indifferent  expression  melted  away 
into  one  of  pleasure,  and  he  turned  and  gave  his  hand 
in  a  hearty,  cordial  way  that  seemed  almost  a  revela 
tion  to  this  girl,  so  accustomed  to  win  and  deceive  that 
she  could  play  with  the  dearest  feelings  of  earnest 
hearts  without  even  a  flutter  in  her  own.  But  now  a 
new  thrill  came  over  her,  a  faint  realization  of  what  it 
is  to  be  true  and  noble,  and  it  brought  a  real  joy,  with 
a  vague,  undefined  resolve  to  deserve,  at  least  in  this 
one  instance,  the  kind  friendship  she  had  at  length  suc 
ceeded  in  calling  out. 

''Friends!  —  of  course;  and  good  friends  we  will  be, 
too,  Miss  Nellie,  if  you  care.  Forgive  me  if  I  misunder 
stood  you.  It  was  careless  of  me  not  to  have  seen  your 
seriousness  at  first,  but  I  thought  you  spoke  rather 
lightly."  This  was  too  much  for  the  feline-natured 
girl.  She  bent  her  head  and  managed  to  coax  out  a 
tear,  which  rolled  down  her  round  white  cheek  and  fell 


28  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

upon  Her  hand.  She  meant  to  be  good,  to  be  true;  but 
what  matter  if  she  did  little  things  like  this  for  effect, 
even  if  she  did  not  wholly  feel  them?  He  saw  it,  and 
his  conscience  smote  him  for  his  harsh  judgment.  Yet 
he  was  not  naturally  hard-tempered,  nor  accustomed  to 
overlook  the  good  gifts  of  those  around  him.  Even  a 
glance  at  his  face  would  give  an  insight  into  his  char 
acter, — so  gentle,  so  earnest,  so  kind,  it  seemed.  He 
was  of  the  Saxon  type,  large  and  fair,  broad-shouldered, 
and  manly  in  form.  Light  curling  hair  arid  a  handsome 
mustache  added  greatly  to  his  finely  cut,  expressive  fea 
tures,  and  dark,  searching  eyes  of  blue  looked  frankly 
and  openly  upon  those  around  him,  as  if  his  own  char 
acter  were  so  steadfast  and  upright  that  he  could  afford 
to  open  these  windows  of  the  soul  to  the  gaze  of  all  the 
world. 

TheyTvere  travelling  to  a  mountain  camp  situated 
high  up  in  the  forest-covered  foothills  of  California, 
where  a  successful  mine  had  called  forth  an  army  of 
toilers  to  unearth  the  treasures  of  the  soil.  Excitement 
had  run  high  at  the  news  of  the  first  rich  pockets,  and 
a  thriving  little  camp  had  sprung  up  like  magic.  A 
company  formed  of  several  capitalists  had  placed  a 
valuable  plant  upon  the  mine,  and  pushed  operations 
steadily  forward  until  they  had  begun  to  realize  some 
thing  in  return  for  their  expenditure.  They  had  sent 
ji  superintendent  to  the  place,  who  in  turn  was  to  ap 
point  a  manager,  and  the  choice  had  fallen  upon  Ed 
ward  Dennett,  as  the  best  of  the  enterprising  actors 
who  lia<l  first  taken  part  in  the  proceedings.  Although 
young,  he  was  remarkably  quick  and  clour-headed, 
understood  machinery,  and  was  by  far  the  best  man 


A    STAGE   ROAD   IN   THE    SIERRAS.  29 

for  the  place,  though  old  miners  stood  by  with  years 
of  experience  in  the  work.  At  first  the  surface  work 
ings  had  proved  a  sufficient  guide,  but  with  deeper 
mining  and  more  complicated  ores,  it  had  become 
necessary  to  engage  a  chemist  and  assayer  to  assist 
further  operations,  and  Edward  Dennett  had  just  been 
to  the  city  on  this  business,  and  also  to  employ  a  fresh 
force  of  miners. 

His  stay  there  had  been  short,  but  long  enough  for 
him  to  meet  his  mother's  old-time  friend,  Mrs.  Minton, 
•and  her  daughter.  They  had  seen  misfortunes  come 
to  him  in  past  years,  so  that  a  steady  rise  of  prosperity 
had  somewhat  lifted  them  out  of  his  sphere  in  worldly 
gains;  although  designing  Nellie  Minton  saw  in  him 
her  heart's  ideal,  —  even  the  prospect  of  fortune  in  the 
future,  —  and  she  decided  that  he  was  a  far  better  catch 
than  most  young  men  who  moved  in  her  circle  at  home. 
In  fact,  she  was  in  love  with  him,  so  far  as  her  vanity 
and  desire  for  power  and  money  allowed  her  to  be  in 
love  with  anybody.  For  even  in  their  childhood,  if  her 
heart  was  ever  moved  to  do  a  generous,  kindly  act 
toward  any  of  her  school-mates,  it  was  for  his  sake,  or 
inspired  by  him.  Yet  this  love,  mere  fancy  at  first, 
had  slowly  grown,  until,  when  the  falling  years  had 
given  her  the  full  crown  of  womanhood,  and  she  had 
long  been  separated  from  her  early  love,  she  still  held 
it  in  a  sort  of  reverence,  as  the  only  true  passion  her 
heart  had  ever  felt.  And  though  it  had  not  become  a 
ruling  motive  in  her  life,  though  her  joys  and  ambi 
tions  were  far  removed  and  wholly  inconsistent  with 
this  love,  she  still  clung  to  it  in  a  wavering,  unsatisfied 
way  for  want  of  a  stronger  feeling. 


30  ABOUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

But  when  they  met  and  she  saw  Edward  Dennett, 
manly  and  strong  and  noble,  a  grand  fulfilment  of  the 
promise  of  his  early  youth,  her  love,  her  ambition  for 
power,  her  vanity,  knew  no  bounds.  Anything — every 
thing —  now  for  this  one  end.  But  she  had  wholly 
failed  to  impress  him,  —  how  deeply  it  stung  her!  — 
and  she  knew  that  he  would  never  seek  her  except  for 
the  sake  of  old  friendship,  so  she  resolved  to  put  herself 
in  his  way.  His  conversation  of  the  camp,  its  mines, 
its  forests,  its  mountains,  and  his  mention  of  their  fine 
new  hotel,  already  visited  by  tourists,  suggested  an 
idea.  Notwithstanding  her  mother's  indifference,  Nellie 
resolved  to  organize  a  little  party  of  her  friends  to 
spend  their  summer  among  the  mountains,  in  the  clear, 
bracing  air. 

It  is  not  always  easy  to  persuade  friends  to  under 
take  something  wholly  untried  when  an  opportunity  for 
certain  enjoyment  that  has  never  failed  remains  open, 
so  she  was  not  altogether  successful.  But  at  last  she 
suggested  it  to  Mabel  Willis,  a  lovely,  bright-spirited 
girl;  and  her  descriptions  of  the  fine,  rare  scenery  and 
the  new  delightful  mode  of  life  were  so  fascinating, 
that  immediately  she  had  one  firm  adherent  to  the 
plan.  Mabel  lived  with  her  aunt,  a  childless  widow, 
prim  and  old-fashioned,  and  staid  in  her  ideas,  a  veri 
table  terror  to  all  young  people's  enjoyments;  so  that 
though  Mabel  had  had  the  strictest  training  and  the 
highest  principles  instilled  into  her  mind,  she  yet  had 
seen  very  few  of  the  merry  joy-days  of  life's  spring 
time.  She  was  a  gentle,  affectionate  girl,  bright  and 
happy- tempered,  true  and  generous,  and  so  her  life  had 
not  been  deprived  of  its  best  and  fullest  development. 


A    STAGE   ROAD   IN   THE    SIERRAS.  31 

She  was  rapturously  fond  of  nature,  and  some  of  the 
brightest  pictures  of  her  remembrance  were  of  quiet, 
dreamy  hours  spent  on  the  rocky  beach  of  some  little 
inlet,  whither  she  and  her  aunt  had  gone  to  spend  an 
out-door  day,  watching  the  long  plane  of  blue-green 
water,  with  its  snowy  flutes  and  frills  of  foam,  moving 
with  a  slow,  swaying  motion  toward  the  shore,  to  break 
into  diamond-covered,  angry  little  breakers  on  the  beach; 
or  of  the  evening  star  in  a  cold  white  sky,  shining  just 
above  the  line  where  the  limitless  ocean  of  waters 
seemed  to  frown  dark  and  treacherous  along  the  hori 
zon's  rim;  or  still  again  in  the  flying  train  where  they 
moved  along  some  steep,  vine-tangled  hillside,  while 
far  below  flowed  the  bright  thread  of  a  deep,  noisy 
stream,  sending  its  clear  splash  and  steady  roar  up 
through  the  thick  line  of  trees  that  bordered  its  banks, 
and  through  the  gorges,  till  its  dull  thunderings  echoed 
for  miles  along  its  course.  What  a  vision  rose  before 
her  of  the  pine  belt  in  the  mountains,  sweeping  miles 
and  miles  along  next  the  pearly  shafts  of  snow !  She 
must  go.  Aunt  Willie  was  generally  as  firm  as  ada 
mant;  but  the  proposition  seemed  to  take  her  fancy 
somewhat  this  time,  for  Mabel  was  twenty  now,  and  it 
was  high  time  her  clamoring  friends  were  appeased  in 
their  desire  to  take  her  for  a  summer  at  some  fashion 
able  resort.  Indeed,  this  was  an  excellent  and  sure 
escape;  so  though  outwardly  reluctant,  Aunt  Willis 
privately  received  the  idea  with  rejoicing,  and  resolved 
to  go.  Nellie  Minton  was  anxious  to  start.  Early 
spring  was  marvellously  beautiful  in  the  mountains, 
she  said.  The  summer  might  be  too  warm  for  comfort, 
and  then  they  might  not  be  so  pleased  as  they  antici- 


32  ABOUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

patcd,  so  they  would  not  have  wasted  all  their  summer 
ing  there, — this  in  advance,  for  fear  she  might  wish  to 
change  her  tactics.  Besides,  she  thought  of  the  choice 
opportunity  she  would  have  to  make  the  journey  with 
Edward  Dennett,  and  to  do  what  she  could  to  further 
her  plans.  But  she  dreaded  in  secret  Mabel's  pretty 
face  and  girlish,  innocent  manner,  lest  they  should 
eclipse  her.  Then  she  thought  of  a  way  out  of  it, — to 
send  word  to  her  friends  that  they  would  start  the  day 
after  the  one  which  Edward  Dennett  had  set  for  the 
trip,  and  thus  delay  them  slightly,  while  she  would  be 
ready,  and  make  it  appear  impossible  to  turn  back. 

It  all  happened  just  as  she  had  hoped,  so  she  wrote 
a  note  to  Mrs.  Willis,  regretting  deeply  the  unfortunate 
occurrence,  but  saying  that  she  would  try  not  to  be 
very  lonesome  on  the  journey,  and  would  expect  them 
the  day  after  her  arrival,  when  she  would  have  all 
things  in  readiness  for  them,  so  that  they  would  not 
be  greatly  inconvenienced,  taking  things  altogether. 
She  had  taken  a  bold  step,  but  it  troubled  her  little; 
and  so  she  set  out  in  the  best  of  moods. 

But  she  was  disappointed.  In  vain  were  all  her  arts, 
her  merry  little  ways,  her  charming,  helpless  indolence, 
—  they  failed  even  to  interest  her  companion.  He  was 
polite  and  thoughtful  for  her  comfort,  and  that  was  all. 

The  daring  attempt  she  had  made,  when  she  offered 
her  friendship  to  him  so  appealingly,  was  a  last  resort. 
And  now  she  glittered  forth  brilliantly,  and  the  tear 
she  had  shed  was  really  only  an  extra  sparkle  of  her 
joyous  spirits. 

"I  am  so  glad — oh,  so  glad!  —  you  have  promised 
me —  that  —  Edward,"  —  hesitatingly.  "  Because  we 


A    STAGE   ROAD   IN  THE    SIERRAS.  33 

should  be  the  best  of  friends,  should  we  not,  when  we 
have  known  each  other  so  long?  There  are  no  friends 
like  the  old  friends,  you  know,  —  to  me  at  least.  And 
then  this  summer  we  shall  see  each  other  often,  too. 
And  I  shall  want  a  friend  to  confide  in,  and  help  me  out 
of  my  naughty  little  tricks,  when  I  need  one.  Ah,  Mr. 
Dennett!  you  are  always  so  kind,  I  'm  sure  even  your 
presence  will  be  a  protection  to  me";  and  she  finished 
with  a  little  sigh. 

"  You  may  feel  assured  that  I  shall  make  your  visit 
as  pleasant  to  you  and  your  friends  as  it  is  possible  for 
me  to  do,"  he  replied.  "But  where  the  world  is  beau 
tiful,  and  care  is  absent,  then  pleasure  is  sure  to  come 
in  the  mere  act  of  living." 

"0  no,  not  always.  The  world  is  often  beautiful 
when  our  lives  have  lost  every  ray  of  sunshine." 

"  But  I  said  when  care  is  absent,  Miss  Nellie,  as  it 
should  be  with  you." 

u  Alas!  I  am  always  caring  for  something  that  is  far 
above  me";  then  quickly,  for  fear  of  being  misunder 
stood,  "I  mean  far  removed  from  my  reach,  as  I  thought 
your  friendship  was  a  moment  ago,  Mr.  Dennett;  and 
so  you  see  I  am  not  always  happy  amid  beautiful  sur 
roundings,  even  though  as  lovely  as  your  snowy  picture." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  ferry.  The  stage 
stopped  suddenly,  and  the  ferry-man  called  to  the  pas 
sengers  to  get  out.  There  was  only  one  other,  the  as- 
sayer,  who  had  a  seat  outside  with  the  driver.  They 
stood  in  a  little  group  while  the  boat  slowly  drifted 
from  one  shore  to  the  other,  Nellie  standing  near  Ed 
ward  Dennett,  and  the  stranger  a  little  aside  from  the 
rest,  leaning  over  the  rail  and  looking  into  the  water. 


34  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

He  had  scarcely  seen  them  yet  during  their  journey, 
keeping  himself  apart  to  smoke  and  enjoy  the  trip  un 
molested,  and  seemed  to  feel  very  little  curiosity  about 
his  fellow-travellers.  On  reaching  the  farther  shore  a 
sudden  lurch  of  the  hoat  nearly  threw  them  off  their 
feet,  Nellie  just  escaping  a  fall  by  the  stranger  swiftly 
springing  forward  and  catching  her  gallantly  in  his 
arms.  Thinking  it  Edward  who  had  caught  her,  and 
true  to  her  instincts,  she  gave  herself  up  to  his  protect 
ing  clasp  for  a  moment  longer  than  was  necessary,  and 
looked  up  into  his  eyes.  The  man  started.  "As  I  live! 
Nellie  Minton!"  he  said  rather  excitedly,  and  glanced 
at  Edward. 

She  recovered  herself  instantly,  stood  up  in  pert 
fashion,  and  replied,  "  To  be  sure.  And  you  are  George 
Brooklyn,  as  /  live!" 

He  did  not  feel  exactly  comfortable  nor  pleased  with 
her  presence,  yet  to  make  himself  agreeable  he  asked, 
"And  what  are  you  doing  up  here,  Miss  Minton,  cross 
ing  a  ferry  in  the  twilight  far  from  the  haunts  of  civili 
zation,  and  on  the  direct  road  to  the  mines?" 

"  The  same  thing  that  you  are  doing,  I  presume," 
she  answered,  —  "going  there,  of  course." 

"  Well,  by  Jove!  that 's  a  surprise.  I  scarcely  looked 
at  you  before,  reserving  to  myself  that  pleasure  when  I 
arrived  at  my  destination,  where  I  know  pleasant  things 
will  be  scarce.  How  long  do  you  stay  ?  "  He  had  a 
neat  way  of  excusing  himself  for  indifference  and  in 
attention;  he  was  seldom  guilty  of  open  impoliteness. 

"  That  depends,  of  course,  on  my  friends  who  are 
coming  to-morrow.  They  were  delayed,  and  I  had  to 
come  with  my  friend  here,  Mr.  Dennett,"  —  herself  feel- 


A    STAGE    ROAD    IN   THE    SIERRAS.  35 

ing  not  the  most  comfortable  that  he  had  caught  her 
travelling  alone  with  Mr.  Dennett,  when  she  would 
much  rather  he  had  not.  He  noticed  it  instantly,  and 
resolved  to  use  it. 

They  were  now  on  the  other  side.  The  driver  was 
preparing  the  lights  and  watering  the  horses,  and  Ed 
ward  busied  himself  inside  the  stage  getting  out  their 
wraps  and  robes  to  keep  off  the  chill  of  the  evening  air, 
so  George  Brooklyn  took  advantage  of  his  absence  for  a 
word  with  Nellie.  "  Come  and  look  at  this  branch  of 
snow-plant  sailing  down  the  river,"  he  called  from  the 
water's  edge,  and  she  could  do  nothing  else  but  join 
him. 

"  Nellie,"  he  said  quickly,  when  she  reached  his  side, 
"  will  you  do  me  a  little  favor  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  a  little  one." 

"  Well,  then,  a  moderately  sized  one;  we  have  always 
been  on  pretty  good  terms,  have  we  not?  And  I  know 
you  quite  as  well  as  you  know  me." 

"  Yes,  but  suppose  you  do?  lam  perfectly  willing. 
I  take  good  care  usually,  Mr.  Brooklyn,  and  I  'm  sel 
dom  caught,  even  if  there  might  be  a  chance,  once  in 
a  great  while,  to  expose  some  of  my  naughty  little  de 
signs  or  fibs,  —  ha!  ha!  " 

"  Yes,  you  are  sharp.  It  beats  the  old  fellow  him 
self  the  way  you  crawl  out  sometimes.  But  time  is 
short,  and  I  will  tell  you  now  what  I  meant  to  say.  It 
is  this:  let  us  not  refer  a  great  deal,  during  our  meet 
ings  in  the  future,  to  our  past  associations,  or  the 
friends  of  long  ago.  What  say  you?" 

"That's  a  beautiful  thing  to  ask  me  to  promise, — 
and  what  for,  pray?  " 

"Do  you  need  to  ask?" 


36  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"0  no;  but  I  thought  I  would,  to  kill  time.  How 
ever,  my  word  for  this  much:  unless  you  conduct  your 
self  to  offend  me,  I  am  on  your  side  and  you  on  mine, 
everlasting,  —  or  no,  during  our  stay,  I  mean.  Not  a 
word  that  the  whole  world  might  not  hear." 

"  Thank  you." 

She  had  an  advantage,  but  she  also  recognized  the 
slight  power  he  had,  so  she  was  willing  to  make  a  com 
promise  so  long  as  she  had  nothing  to  gain  by  not 
making  it,  and  her  promise  was  one  easily  broken  also. 

"  Her  word  to  the  deuce,  where  it  came  from,"  he 
muttered,  as  she  walked  away.  "I'm  tied  up  now  with 
that  deceitful  minx  to  please  for  the  sake  of  a  mere 
existence.  Confound  it  all." 

"  All  aboard,"  rang  out  clear  above  the  roar  of  the 
waters,  and  the  passengers  took  their  places  for  the 
long  ride  up  a  rocky  grade  that  wound  over  the  hills 
broken  by  the  wearing  river.  The  lights  shone  out 
dim  and  yellow  in  the  late  twilight,  the  driver's  whip 
cracked,  and  away  they  went  up  the  winding  road. 
Nellie,  inside  with  Mr.  Dennett,  settled  down  cosily  by 
him,  and  conversed  pleasantly,  finally  drifting  into  one 
of  her  charming  little  humorous  stories  for  his  amuse 
ment;  while  he  exerted  himself  to  make  her  comfort 
able  by  tucking  a  wrap  snugly  about  her,  and  placing 
a  cushion  for  her  to  lean  against. 

Night  deepened,  and  hid  the  hills  in  a  mystery  of 
darkness,  the  golden  sickle  of  the  new  moon  gleamed 
out  from  the  west,  and  the  firs  hanging  close  over  the 
road  brushed  their  blunt  needles  against  the  stage  in 
noisy  little  showers  of  sound;  while  without,  the  driver 
talked  and  shouted  to  his  horses,  and  George  Brooklyn 
smoked  away  his  uneasiness  and  wrath. 


37 


CHAPTER    III. 


Her  eye  had  a  glow  like  the  sun  of  her  clime, 
Which  waked  every  feeling  at  onco  into  flower. 

MOORE. 


long  and  loud  the  cry  arose,  and  the 
watcher,  having  done  his  duty,  started  back  toward  the 
house  from  his  lookout  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  while 
'the  waiting  hostler  led  out  his  six  shining  horses, 
ready  harnessed,  and  the  cook  in  the  kitchen,  who  also 
heard  the  call,  began  dishing  up  the  soup  and  pease, 
and  hurrying  about  here  and  there  to  have  all  things 
in  readiness.  Up  through  the  late  dim  twilight  shone 
two  twinkling  lights,  and  at  length  a  dull,  rumbling 
noise  came  nearer  and  nearer,  until  at  last  the  dark 
forms  of  the  horses  rose  to  view,  and  the  stage  itself 
showed  distinctly  against  the  white  glow  over  the  hori 
zon,  coming  closer  and  sounding  louder;  and  then  with 
a  rush,  and  a  great  deal  of  creaking  and  hissing  of 
brakes,  the  ponderous  conveyance  rolled  up  and  stopped. 
"Robinson's,"  announced  the  driver;  "half-past  seven 
now;  we  start  in  thirty  minutes";  and  then  went  off  to 
get  a  match  of  the  hostler,  with  which  to  light  his  pipe. 
"  Three,"  reported  the  dining-room  girl  to  the  dis 
gusted  cook,  returning  from  her  place  by  a  front  win 
dow,  where  she  could  see  the  passengers  alight;  and 
consequently  several  plates  of  soup  were  emptied  back 
into  the  kettle,  and  there  was  much  less  haste  in  the 


38  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

big  hot  kitchen.  "  Splendid  business  we  're  doing  these 
days,"  said  the  cook,  sarcastically,  who  took  more  inter 
est  than  people  in  her  position  usually  do,  because  she 
was  one  of  the  daughters  of  the  family  who  kept  the 
house. 

"  Only  three,  did  you  say,  Lill  ?  Are  you  sure  ? 
There  might  have  been  two  or  three  more  inside  who 
did  n't  get  out." 

"  Only  three,  I  said,"  replied  Lill.  "  I  would  have 
seen  them  if  there  'd  been  more,  —  two  gentlemen  and 
one  lady." 

"  And  the  lady  and  one  of  the  gentlemen  husband 
and  wife,  of  course;  and  likely  as  not  they  won't  eat, 
but  will  wait  till  they  get  up  to  the  Royal  Kegina,"  said 
Lettie,  the  cook. 

"  No,  I  say  not.  For  one  gentleman  who  rode  out 
side  does  n't  say  much  to  the  rest,  and  the  other  man 
with  the  lady  is  Ned  Dennett  of  the  Lucky  Streak. 
They  're  coming  in,  but  the  other  fellow  said  he  was 
dizzy,  and  thought  he  'd  walk  up  and  down  the  porch 
to  feel  better." 

"  Why,  tell  John  to  invite  him  in,  and  we  '11  do  some 
thing  for  him,  Lill.  You  can  have  Milcie  give  him  a 
dose  of  the  bitters  to  tone  him  up.  Likely  he  's  got  cold 
riding  so  far  in  the  chill  night  breeze,"  directed  Lettie; 
and  Lill  flew  away  to  tell  John. 

"Thanks,"  said  George  Brooklyn  on  receiving  the 
invitation;  "I  shall  be  glad  of  the  opportunity,  for  I 
am  rather  tired  ";  and  he  followed  John  into  the  large 
square  parlor,  where  a  knot  of  pine  blazing  in  the  fire 
place  warmed  the  air,  and  a  lounge  with  a  soft  pillow 
upon  it  looked  very  comfortable  and  inviting.  Milcie, 


A  STOP  AT  ROBINSON'S.  39 

a  plump,  pleasant-looking  girl,  came  bustling  in,  and 
had  him  compose  himself  on  the  couch  already  pre 
pared,  offered  the  bitters,  which  he  declined,  and  the 
"smelling  balm,"  which  he  accepted,  and  at  last  sug 
gested  burnt  brandy  in  hot  milk,  which  would  "  most 
likely  cheer  him  up."  She  got  a  deep  yellow  bowl 
with  brandy  in  it,  set  it  afire,  and  seated  herself  on  a 
low  stool  near  him,  telling  him  it  would  do  him  good 
to  inhale  it  while  burning,  and  with  a  long  spoon 
poured  back  and  forth  the  liquid  covered  with  dim 
blue  and  yellow  and  purple  flames. 

"  Going  up  to  the  Lucky  Streak,  I  suppose  ? "  she 
asked. 

"Yes." 

"  Big  diggings  nowadays,  we  hear.  To-morrow,  we 
have  word,  the  stage  is  chartered  for  a  big  force  of 
miners  going  up,  though  they've  got  a  powerful  crowd 
on  now.  Every  one  up  here  is  glad  of  it,  just  the  same; 
it  makes  business,  and  travel  lately  has  been  getting 
scarce.  Do  you  know  anybody  up  there?  " 

"  Only  a  few,"  replied  George,  growing  uncomfort 
able. 

"  From  the  city,  I  judge." 

"  Er-r — yes."  George  Brooklyn  was  not  a  man  to 
remain  quiet  and  be  closely  questioned.  In  fact,  he 
was  expert  at  dodging,  and  this  series  of  interrogatories 
seemed  to  suggest  that  he  might  not  care  to  answer 
everything  asked  him  in  such  a  point-blank  manner, 
so  he  reversed  matters  and  began  asking  questions 
himself.  u  I  suppose  Mr.  Robinson  keeps  this  stopping- 
place, —  the  driver  called  it  Robinson's." 

"Yes,  —  my  father.     My  sisters  and  I  do  the  work; 


40  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

but  there  's  enough  of  us, —  five  girls,  not  counting  my 
adopted  sister.  She  don't  live  here,  but  teaches  down 
in  the  valley."  George  smiled  at  this.  He  remem 
bered  some  one  who  taught  in  the  valley  too.  "  When 
summer  sets  in  we  '11  be  rushed,  I  tell  you;  it'll  take  all 
five  of  us,  and  my  brother  John  besides,  to  keep  things 
looking  smart.  How  long  do  you  expect — '  But  her 
question  was  broken  abruptly  by  some  one  rushing 
toward  the  door  and  hastily  opening  it,  and  a  young 
girl  stood  on  the  threshold  looking  confused  and  half 
dazzled  by  the  glare  of  the  pine-wood  fire.  She  was 
very  pretty.  George  Brooklyn  noticed  instantly  her 
large  dark  eyes  full  of  warmth  and  expression,  her 
black  hair  curling  in  heavy  masses  about  her  face,  and 
the  brilliant  pomegranate  color  burning  on  her  cheeks 
and  lips.  Her  surprise  at  seeing  him  had  completely 
embarrassed  her,  and  she  stood  glancing  half  wildly 
around  the  room,  not  knowing  what  to  do.  She  was 
quickly  relieved  by  Milcic,  who  said  cordially,  "  Come 
right  in,  Nita,  and  take  a  chair.  This  gentleman  here  's 
been  threatened  with  a  fainting-spell,  or  something,  and 
I  'm  only  burning  a  little  spirits  for  him,  —  that 's  all. 
Going  up  with  the  stage,  I  suppose." 

The  girl  advanced  and  seated  herself  near  Milcie. 
She  had  a  crimson  shawl  over  her  head,  which  she  al 
lowed  to  drop  about  her  shoulders  and  reveal  the  abun 
dance  of  her  glossy  dark  hair;  then  she  sat  motionless, 
the  color  on  her  cheeks  burning  brighter,  and  looking 
earnestly  and  half  pityingly  toward  George.  He  was 
pleased  with  her.  He  could  see  strong  feeling  and 
sensitiveness  in  her  face,  and  he  liked  her  dashing 
Spanish  beauty,  as  well  as  her  shy  awkwardness. 


A  STOP  AT  ROBINSON'S.  41 

"  Did  you  see  your  father,  Nita?  "  asked  Milcie. 

"  Yes,"  bashfully. 

"  I  thought  you  'd  catch  him.  Too  bad  they  sent  him 
after  that  fellow  they  discharged,  because  a  whole 
load  's  coming  through  to-morrow  for  the  mine;  and 
they  won't  be  hard  up  for  hands  then,  I  judge.  Did 
your  father  see  him?" 

"No;  he  had  word  about  the  new  force,  so  he  came 
back  with  me." 

"Pshaw!  I  thought  he'd  go  his  eight  miles  for 
nothing  when  I  heard  of  it.  Is  he  going  to  let  you 
start  up  to  Quartz  Hill  to-morrow?" 

"  I  don't  know.  He  said,  since  he  was  coming  back 
with  me,  we  need  n't  settle  that  till  we  got  home." 

"It  would  be  rough  on  you  to  be  riding  round  the 
country  for  tlje  sake  of  asking  him,  and  then  not  get 
to  go  after  all." 

During  this  conversation  Nita  looked  steadily  into 
the  fire,  except  when  she  flashed  a  bright,  admiring 
glance  toward  George,  and  caught  him  looking  at  her, 
which  compelled  her  to  return  again  to  her  apparent 
study  of  the  glowing  coals.  When  Milcie  left  the  room 
for  milk  with  which  to  prepare  the  brandy,  George  was 
anxious  to  attract  her  attention,  but  she  sat  immovable 
as  stone,  without  raising  her  eyes.  Here  was  promise 
of  amusement  for  him  for  the  moment,  and  if  she  lived 
near  Lucky  Streak,  more  in  the  future  most  certainly. 
Besides,  he  felt  slightly  piqued,  mistaking  her  shyness 
for  indifference. 

She  was  seated  near  him,  so  from  his  lounge  he 
reached  out  and  gave  her  dress  a  little  pull.  She 
turned  indignantly  upon  him,  but  uttered  not  a  word. 


42  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"You  are  distant  to  strangers,  I  see,"  ventured 
George. 

"  You  are  guilty  of  queer  proceedings,,  for  even  a 
stranger,"  she  replied  haughtily.  "I'm  not  a  fool, 
sir." 

"  Aha,"  thought  he,  "  she  's  wiser  than  I  judged.  I  '11 
try  another  mode."  Then  aloud,  "You  might  notice 
me,  though,  when  you  see  I  am  ill,  and  feel  lonesome 
here  without  friends." 

This  partly  v/on  her,  for  she  said,  more  pleasantly, 
yet  with  a  touch  of  sarcasm,  "  I  am  sorry.  Can  I  do 
anything?" 

"  I  've  just  been  asking  you,  —  rather  suggesting  that 
you  be  more  sociable.  It  is  cheering  to  have  a  pleas 
ant  word." 

Nita  was  equal  to  the  emergency  when  she  thought 
him  rude  to  her,  but  now  her  bashfulness  returned. 
She  could  think  of  nothing  to  say,  though  her  expressive 
face  spoke  for  her,  — told  him  she  could  not  fathom  his 
behavior,  and  that  she  mistrusted  him.  He  was  ready 
for  it,  but  Milcie  returning  with  the  milk  and  brandy, 
prevented  further  conversation.  "You'd  better  drink 
it  now,"  she  said,  "  the  stage  's  about  off."  He  drank 
it  without  saying  more,  and  while  Milcie  helped  him 
with  his  overcoat  and  gave  him  a  flask  of  the  drink  she 
had  prepared,  for  his  use  on  the  way,  Nita  slipped  out 
quietly  and  waited  in  the  porch  for  her  father  to  bring 
around  their  horses. 

"Who  is  that  girl?"  asked  George,  when  she  was  gone. 

u  Nita  Logan.  She  lives  up  near  Lucky  Streak,  and 
her  father  works  in  the  mine;  he  's  Irish,  and  her 
mother  Spanish,  —  a  queer  mixture  perhaps;  but  Nita 's 


A  STOP  AT  ROBINSON'S.  43 

good-looking,  you  see.  I  guess  you  are  smitten  your 
self." 

George  laughed,  and  Milcie  continued:  "  Most  all  the 
young  men  coming  up  this  way  are  more  or  less  sweet 
on  her,  because  she's  pretty,  /  think;  but  Lottie,  my 
sister,  says  it 's  because  she  don't  notice  them.  She 
don't  care  for  'em  maybe;  and  maybe  she  does  and 
never  betrays  it;  anyhow,  she  's  awful  backward.  She 
never  speaks  to  one  of  'em,  unless  they  say  something 
to  her;  I  guess  she  don't  care  a  whit,  —  that 's  my  idea 
of  that  part."  George  was  pleased  to  hear  this.  He 
loved  a  conquest. 

"Where  is  she  going?  Up  to  Lucky  Streak  in  the 
stage  ? " 

"No;  she  and  her  father  are  a-horseback;  they'll 
ride  along  in  company  with  it,  I  suppose.  It 's  uncom 
fortable  going  through  the  pine  woods  alone  in  the 
night." 

"Thanks  for  your  kindness.  Where  do  I  go  to 
settle?" 

"  Nowhere.  I  've  done  nothing  to  be  paid  for.  You  're 
welcome." 

George  bowed  politely,  thanked  her  again,  and 
passed  out  into  the  porch,  where  Nita  was  waiting.  It 
is  very  easy  to  talk  in  the  dark,  especially  if  something 
is  to  be  said  that  might  reveal  embarrassment  on  the 
speaker's  part;  so  even  George  —  and  not  wholly  for 
his  sake — chose  a  moment  of  darkness  to  speak,  that 
Nita's  surprise  might  not  betray  itself  in  her  face,  and 
thus  doubly  embarrass  her,  and  also  because,  since 
truth  loves  the  light  and  error  hides  in  darkness,  he 
felt  it  more  consistent  on  his  own  part  to  work  in  his 


44  AROUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 

appointed  time.  Nita  stood  on  the  end  of  the  porch, 
looking  out  upon  the  pines  that  grew  close  to  the  house 
in  dark,  gloomy  masses,  and  idly  stirring  a  spray  of 
honeysuckle  that  dipped  into  the  cool,  dripping  waters 
of  the  tank  beside  the  porch.  George  crossed  over 
lightly  to  where  she  was,  and  laid  his  hand  upon  her 
arm.  She  started  as  if  she  had  not  heard  him,  shak 
ing  the  vine  into  a  shower  of  glistening  diamonds  over 
them  both,  and  stepped  backward  into  a  little  stream 
of  light  that  poured  forth  from  one  of  the  windows, 
revealing  the  quick  anger  in  her  dark  face. 

"I  came  for  that  sympathy  you  promised,"  said 
George,  shrinking  into  the  darkness,  that  she  might 
not  see  the  smile  he  could  not  repress.  She  made  no 
answer,  but  stood  half  trembling,  yet  indignantly  de 
fiant.  Then  he  came  closer  and  bent  over  her  kindly 
and  reassuringly,  and  said:  "Believe  me,  I  am  in 
earnest.  I  have  found  my  maid  of  the  mountains  in 
you,  for  you  are  a  sweet  Spanish  beauty." 

Still  no  word,  but  she  did  not  move  away  from  him. 
So  with  this  slight  shadow  of  encouragement,  George 
put  his  hand  caressingly  against  her  cheek,  and  was 
about  to  whisper  something  close  to  her  face,  when  she 
dashed  herself  violently  away  and  stood  before  him, 
trembling  with  rage  and  indignation  that  she  could  not 
express.  "  Go  away!"  she  cried,  so  loud  that  George 
turned  anxiously  to  see  if  any  one  had  overheard  her. 
The  hostler  and  driver  were  standing  near  the  horses 
talking,  and  did  not  seem  to  notice,  but  Edward  Den 
nett  and  Miss  Minton  were  just  passing  out  through  the 
other  end  of  the  porch,  for  the  warning  cry  had  been 
given  to  the  passengers  to  be  ready  to  start,  so  George 


45 

realized  that  he  too  must  go,  else  all  attention  would 
soon  be  centred  on  him. 

"Well,  good  by;  I  must  go  now,"  he  said.  "You 
are  unkind  to  me  when  I  have  chosen  you  to  be  my 
lovely  mountain  nymph.  I  will  see  you  again,  though; 
I  could  not  resist  seeking  one  so  pretty  as  you.  So 
good  by  again."  And  then  he  left  her,  after  linger 
ing  a  moment  for  the  answer  that  did  not  come; 
and  when  he  had  climbed  to  his  seat  on  the  stage,  and 
comfortably  composed  himself,  while  the  driver  was 
drawing  up  his  lines  and  taking  off  the  brakes  and  the 
blocks  were  being  removed  from  behind  the  wheels,  he 
glanced  back  and  saw  Nita  waiting  just  as  she  was  be 
fore  he  disturbed  her,  yet  he  knew  that  she  had  not 
been  indifferent  to  him  at  least,  for  he  could  see  her 
excitedly  breaking  off  little  clusters  of  the  vine  and 
throwing  them  impatiently  into  the  brimming  waters  of 
the  tank.  He  laughed  quietly  to  himself,  and  turned, 
satisfied  and  forgetful  of  her,  to  watch  the  pine  tops 
gently  tossing  in  the  night  wind  far  below  him  in  the 
canon  as  they  rolled  away. 

It  was  eight  miles  to  Lucky  Streak  mines,  and  up 
hill  a  good  part  of  the  journey.  The  road  led  through 
heavy  pine  forests  and  along  rock-armored  hillsides,  so 
that  the  ride  was  a  dark  one,  and  a  rough  one  as  well. 
George  thought  no  more  of  Nita,  for  she  and  her  father 
rode  some  distance  behind  the  stage,  and  never  came 
in  sight.  Finally,  as  they  neared  the  top  of  a  long 
grade,  the  cold  grew  so  intense  that  George  suffered 
severely,  and  asked  the  driver  in  desperation  to  provide 
him  with  some  sort  of  scarf  or  blanket  to  wrap  about 
his  ears  and  neck.  The  driver  fumbled  about  fruit- 


46  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

lessly  for  a  while,  but  being  so  accustomed  himself  to  the 
sharp  night  air  in  the  mountains,  he  felt  little  sym 
pathy,  and  so  gave  it  up,  telling  George  they  would  soon 
be  down  in  a  caiion  again,  where  it  would  be  sheltered 
and  warmer.  However,  during  one  of  their  stops  to 
rest  the  horses  on  the  hill,  Nita  and  her  father  came 
up  to  the  stage,  and  a  sudden  thought  seizing  the 
driver,  he  called  out  familiarly,  u  Say,  Nita,  ain't  you 
got  an  extra  shawl  or  saddle-blanket  along?  A  weak 
chap  aboard  here  's  most  froze,  and  wants  something 
to  do  up  his  neck  in."  Nita  checked  her  horse's  hurried 
step  just  in  the  glow  of  the  stage-lamps,  that  revealed 
her,  like  a  magic  picture  outlined  against  the  dull  red 
bank  walling  in  the  road  on  one  side,  her  dark  eyes 
glistening  though  half  blinded  by  the  sudden  light, 
seated  proudly  on  her  steaming  horse. 

"  0  yes,  I've  a  shawl  here  behind  my  saddle  that  I 
do  not  use,"  she  said,  and  began  to  untie  it.  The 
driver  passed  it  to  George  when  she  handed  it  to  him. 
She  remained  for  a  moment  irresolute,  and  then  ad 
dressing  herself  to  the  driver,  said  vehemently,  as  if 
maddened  at  seeing  George  appropriate  it  to  his  own 
comfort,  "No,  indeed!  Not  for  him!  Give  me  back 
my  shawl." 

George  illy  failed  to  hide  his  surprise,  for  though 
accustomed  to  acts  equally  ill-bred  and  cruel,  he  had 
never  seen  them  performed  so  openly,  yet  he  folded  it 
with  an  humble  air,  and  passed  it  back  to  her;  still  she 
did  not  relent,  and  only  looked  half  ashamed  as  she 
took  it.  He  tried  to  catch  her  eye,  and  show  her  by  his 
face  that  he  did  not  resent  her  unkindness,  but  she 
studiously  avoided  him,  and  when  she  had  put  the 


A  STOP  AT  ROBINSON'S.  47 

shawl  back  again,  said  hurriedly,  "Good  night,  Paul," 
to  the  driver,  and  galloped  away. 

"Our  young  lady  is  saucy,"  remarked  George,  lightly, 
to  the  driver. 

"Yes,"  he  answered.  "She's  been  overdid.  Telia 
girl  she 's  pretty  onct,  and  seems  like  she  never  would 
get  over  it.  That 's  the  trouble  with  Nita;  but  then 
she  's  a  toler'ble  good  girl,  too." 

How  far  was  either  from  the  true  state  of  things  I 
Little  could  they  see  that,  though  uncultured  and  un 
learned,  she  had  keen  sensibilities  that  brooked  no 
rough  handling,  even  though  it  was  offered  in  the  garb 
of  friendliness;  and  that  only  in  a  spirit  of  mild  retalia 
tion  she  had  returned  what  she  had  been  compelled  to 
receive,  though  she  did  it  in  a  more  objectionable  form. 
Yet  there  were  ample  .excuses  for  her, — because  she 
knew  no  other  way  to  repel  what  she  felt  to  be  an  in- 
Bult,  and  because  she  could  not  bear  it  in  silence. 

After  she  was  out  of  sight  a  stillness  settled  over  them, 
and  both  men  sat  for  a  long  time  absorbed  in  thought, 
— George  reflecting  not  the  most  pleasantly  on  his 
crushed  vanity,  that  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  both 
Miss  Minton  and  Nita.  The  toiling  stage  creaked,  the 
horses  stumbled  over  rocks  that  struck  fire  at  every 
step,  and  the  thick  pines  met  above  the  road,  sometimes 
letting  through  glimpses  of  the  dark  night  sky  lighted 
with  its  nebulous  splendors,  whose  pale  light  struggled 
through  the  cold,  clear  air  and  reached  them  in  slender 
bars  of  diamond  brightness.  The  sharp  air  finally  pro 
duced  a  feeling  of  drowsiness,  and  George  dozed  off  into 
a  nap,  sometimes  waking  suddenly  as  they  went  jar 
ring  over  ruts,  but  quickly  relapsing  into  unconscious- 


48  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

ness,  until  he  was  roused  from  a  sound  sleep  by  the 
sudden  cessation  of  all  sound,  and  an  oppressive  silence 
reigning,  instead  of  the  steady  creak  and  clatter  of  the 
moving  stage.  While  he  was  rubbing  his  eyes  and  try 
ing  to  move  his  stiffened  muscles,  he  heard  the  loud  ex 
cited  cry  of  "Lucky  Streak  Mines! "  ringing  through 
the  stillness,  and  saw  a  score  or  more  of  lights  scattered 
about  on  the  hillsides,  flashing  warmly  through  the 
gloom;  so  he  climbed  down  from  the  s "age,  feeling  very 
glad  to  follow  Edward  Dennett  toward  the  great  hotel, 
where  a  blaze  of  light  from  the  brilliantly  glowing  win 
dows  promised  waiting  hospitality  to  the  chilled  and 
tired  travellers. 


A  GLIMPSE   OF  THE  DOCTOR.  49 


CHAPTER    IV. 

• 

A  GLIMPSE    OF   THE   DOCTOB. 

My  soul  was  like  a  star,  and  dwelt  apart. 

LOUDON. 

COME  and  let  us  look  in  at  the  Doctor  a  week  or  so 
after  his  visit  to  Miss  Warren,  as  he  sits  in  his  quiet, 
cobwebbed  office,  situated  out  of  the  noise  and  excite 
ment  of  the  town,  where  the  pink-and-white  blossoms 
of  the  sweet-pease  twine  about  his  smoke-dimmed  win 
dows,  and  the  swaying  green  branches  of  the  locusts 
bend  now  and  then  to  brush  away  in  little  streaks  the 
thick  layer  of  dust  that  has  settled  outside.  It  is  a 
small  room,  but  a  bright  one,  with  large  windows  look 
ing  out  toward  the  east,  that  let  in  floods  of  sunshine, 
lighting  up  the  faded  green  carpet  and  the  shining  gilt 
on  the  backs  of  his  substantially  bound  books,  ranged 
in  even  rows  along  the  walls,  and  seeming  to  rest  more 
tenderly  than  elsewhere  on  the  Doctor's  gray  hair, 
blending  its  golden-brown  and  silver  locks  into  beauti 
ful  lights  and  shadows,  as  he  sits  at  his  long,  paper- 
strewn  desk,  his  head  resting  on  his  hand,  thinking 
gravely. 

The  Doctor  was  a  thoughtful  man,  a  man  who  loved 
solitude  and  quiet.  All  his  life  he  had  kept  himself 
apart  from  others,  delving  deep  into  the  minutest  re 
cesses  of  study,  trying  experiments  with  his  carefully 
collected  heaps  of  herbs  and  chemicals,  or  writing  the 


50  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

results  of  his  labors  into  lectures  for  delivery  or  publi 
cation.  Few  people  had  ever  known  him  intimately. 
He  had  an  aversion  to  strangers,  notwithstanding  his 
profession  brought  him  into  daily  contact  with  them. 
To  his  friends  he  was  warm-hearted  and  frank,  but  out 
side  the  range  of  his  friendships  the  Doctor  was  almost 
an  awkward  man,  often  finding  himself  in  uncomfort 
able  straits,  from  which  he  usually  managed  to  retreat, 
though  not  always  in  the  most  graceful  manner.  But 
a  stranger  who  impressed  him  favorably  was  cordially 
welcomed  to  a  place  among  his  friends,  and  treated  as 
such,  however  premature  such  unreserved  and  familiar 
behavior  might  appear.  Indeed,  the  Doctor  knew  no 
other  way  to  treat  people;  it  was  either  in  his  own  can 
did,  sincere  manner,  or  he  made  serious  blunders  in 
trying  to  be  ceremonious,  and  could  only  end  in  confu 
sion  or  mortification.  Thus  people  were  his  friends  or 
they  knew  him  not.  But  he  was  so  self-sacrificing  that 
he  seldom  asked  a  favor,  and  he  was  always  so  kind 
and  obliging  that  few  ever  remembered  they  could  do 
a  service  for  him  in  return,  and  hence  they  received 
not  that  full,  free  confidence  which,  with  people  like 
the  Doctor,  is  born  of  gratitude. 

Into  his  inner  life  —  into  that  deep,  secret  place  of 
the  heart  where  few  may  come,  even  to  those  who  are 
most  open  and  free  —  no  one  had  ever  entered.  If  he 
had  a  sorrow,  he  bore  its  bitterest  pangs  alone;  if  he 
had  a  joy,  its  best  delight  lay  far  below  that  exterior 
which  the  world  can  see,  imbuing  his  sensibilities  with 
such  an  unspeakable  charm,  such  a  subtile  delight,  that 
he  could  never  give  it  full  expression  without  its  seem 
ing  insipid  to  him  compared  to  what  he  really  felt. 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  DOCTOR.  51 

And  the  Doctor  was  never  insipid,  surely,  although  his 
charity  and  his  natural  kindness  often  caused  him  to 
notice  little  things  which  seemed  insignificant  and  al 
most  absurd  when  compared  to  his  own  native  dignity, 
that  could  even  permeate  his  comical  little  gig  and  his 
highly  inappropriate  yellow  gloves  with  an  air  of  grave 
importance  because  they  belonged  to  him.  Those  who 
knew  him  always  recognized  this  dignity  despite  his 
eccentricities;  and  others,  though  often  disposed  to 
make  light  of  his  defects,  learned  speedily  to  respect 
him. 

But  with  regard  to  the  Doctor's  friend,  his  confiden 
tial,  dearly  beloved  and  trusted  friend,  —  alas  for  him! 
there  had  never  been  such  a  one.  And  still  it  was  not 
the  Doctor's  fault.  There  was  only  one  way  into  that 
holiest  place  of  his  heart,  and  he  himself  could  not 
point  it  out.  To  one  who  had  lived  such  an  unselfish 
life  as  his,  it  was  not  strange  that  it  should  be  his 
mission  to  serve  others,  and  hear  and  minister  to  their 
misfortunes  rather  than  to  receive  the  loving  care  and 
the  appreciative  ear  that  had  been  his  life-long  wants. 
Who  ever  thought  of  sympathizing  with  the  Doctor, 
when  he  was  so  necessary  to  everybody  else's  comfort 
that  they  could  not  spare  him  the  time  to  brood  over 
his  own  woes?  In  fact,  most  of  his  friends  thought  he 
never  had  any;  for  although  unreserved  in  many  re 
spects,  he  was  painfully  timid  with  reference  to  himself. 

And  so  it  can  readily  be  inferred  that  since  the  Doc 
tor  had  never  known  an  intimate  friend,  his  love  affairs 
had  not  been  surprisingly  frequent.  If  his  heart  had 
ever  known  a  touch  of  the  divine  passion,  it  seldom 
promised  more  than  a  remote  fulfilment,  —  in  fact,  he 


52  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

crushed  it  out  if  it  threatened  to  lead  him  into  any 
outward  demonstration.  But  he  had  never  known  the 
sweetness  of  contented  love,  so  no  wonder  he  dreamed 
dreams  and  indulged  fancies  of  what  his  heart  longed 
for,  and  then  banished  them  as  sentimentally  ridicu 
lous,  a  creation  of  his  own  heart,  and  as  something  that 
did  not  in  reality  exist. 

But  had  the  Doctor  been  less  faint-hearted  with  re 
spect  to  these  things,  he  would  not  have  been  so  easily 
discouraged  as  to  cherish  in  silence  or  hide  as  un 
worthy  of  manly,  practical  strength  his  want  of  some 
one  to  care  for,  or  he  would  have  at  least  experimented 
with  it,  to  satisfy  himself  so  far  as  his  own  case  was  con 
cerned. 

That  trite  old  saying  about  the  sins  of  bachelors 
could  not  be  applied  to  him  with  the  dimmest  shadow 
of  truth;  he  was  pure  and  noble,  and  true  to  himself  so 
far  as  his  light  could  guide  him,  and  that  is  all  that 
any  of  us  can  be.  If-  we  err  then,  it  is  rather  a  defect 
for  which  we  are  not  responsible,  or  an  accident  for 
which  we  should  not  be  held  accountable. 

And  hence  he  had  lived  his  life,  little  knowing  what 
he  missed,  or  how  easily  that  obstacle  in  his  path  might 
be  removed  if  any  one  could  ever  find  it  out,  and  often 
felt  that  after  all,  as  many  of  us  do,  the  world  was  not 
altogether  such  a  charming  place  as  he  had  at  first 
imagined;  yet  he  made  the  most  of  it  for  want  of  a 
better  one,  since  he  still  had  the  advantage  of  escaping 
its  deadliest  sorrows,  if  he  found  not  its  most  precious 
happiness.  He  took  up  life's  duties  very  cheerfully, 
and  even  ambitiously,  and  much  he  had  accomplished, 
earning  eminence  in  his  profession,  and  confidence  and 
gratitude  from  many  friends. 


A   GLIMPSE   OF   THE  DOCTOR.  53 

He  was  always  in  a  hurry,  yet  he  did  not  work  rap 
idly,  for  he  gave  such  careful  attention  to  the  minutest 
detail,  put  himself  out  so  often  to  help  some  one  in  need 
of  his  assistance,  and  so  frequently  indulged  his  habit 
of  meditation,  that  he  lost  many  minutes  of  what  he 
considered  his  limited  time.  Yet  he  had  ample  patience 
with  anybody  who  trespassed  upon  his  valuable  hours; 
and  as  an  instance  of  this  leniency,  let  us  cite  the  case 
of  his  lazy  white  horse,  that  imposed  on  his  benevolence 
so  much  as  to  take  her  own  time  on  all  occasions, 
though  sometimes  pretending  to  be  in  as  much  of  a 
hurry  as  he.  He  knew  it  in  a  measure,  and  bought  his 
big  whip  for  her  benefit,  but  he  was  too  kind-hearted 
ever  to  use  it,  even  though  his  smart  Lady  Snowdrop 
often  took  half  a  day  to  make  a  two  hours'  trip. 

And  for  an  example  of  his  meditative  indulgencies,  let 
us  think  of  him  as  we  see  him  on  this  morning  when  we 
uninvited  intrude  upon  his  unconscious  hospitality  and 
read  his  thoughts  as  he  sits  in  his  office  so  absorbed  in  re 
flection  that  he  has  forgotten  half  his  morning  has  been 
spent  in  this  way,  and  that  the  fat  white  horse  hitched 
out  under  the  locust  grove  is  luxuriating  in  the  fact  that 
she  is  two  hours  his  debtor  already,  and  that  it  is  much 
pleasanter  there  in  the  balmy,  sun-dotted  shadow  than 
dragging  the  gig  away  over  the  roads  on  the  Doctor's 
journeys. 

He  was  taking  all  this  time,  —  which  he  would  re 
gret  further  on  he  knew,  —  wondering  whether  Miss 
Warren  would  be  horrified  should  he  invite  her  to  drive 
out  to  the  hospital  with  him  some  day,  and  pay  his 
languishing  patients  a  visit;  not  that  he  was  the  least 
inclined  to  be  attentive  to  her,  but  she  was  such  a 


54  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

bright,  cheerful  girl,  and  appreciating  woman's  quick, 
intuitive  discernment  in  the  sick-room,  he  felt  certain 
she  would  be  able  to  make  valuable  suggestions  which 
would  never  occur  to  him.  He  had  seen  her  often 
since  his  first  visit,  and  she  had  sometimes  been  fairly 
enthusiastic  over  their  plans.  If  she  had  been  less 
interested  in  the  work  she  had  undertaken,  the  Doctor 
would  never  have  dreamed  of  such  a  thing;  but  he 
was  now  almost  persuaded  she  would  go  if  he  ex 
plained  it  to  her,  and  yet  he  hesitated,  fearing  she 
would  misunderstand  him  in  some  way.  She  was  so 
very  busy  that  she  seldom  availed  herself  of  any  little 
pastime;  and  now  that  spring  was  on  her  way  over 
the  low  bright  hills,  with  dainty  early  blossoms  hiding 
deep  in  the  new  fresh  grass,  and  waxy  clusters  of  but 
tercups  shining  in  the  dewiest  hollows,  he  hoped  that 
she  would  take  as  much  pleasure  in  seeing  them  as  he 
would  in  showing  them  to  her,  and  perhaps  that  would 
be  an  extra  inducement  for  her  to  go. 

He  took  up  almost  reverently  her  offerings  for  his 
patients,  and  noted  how  neat  and  fresh  and  sweet  were 
the  well-chosen  bunches  of  lilacs  and  roses,  honey 
suckles,  pinks,  and  chrysanthemums;  how  carefully 
selected  her  stories  and  sketches,  clipped  from  papers 
or  marked  in  magazines;  and  also  how  thoughtful  a 
warm,  sympathetic  letter  for  one  poor  fellow  he  had  told 
her  about,  and  to  whom  she  had  conceived  the  idea  of 
writing  as  a  change  for  him,  and  perhaps  a  relief  also. 
Finally  he  did  what  was  very  unusual  with  him  in 
such  a  case,  —  he  resolved  to  ask  her  anyway.  And 
then  he  started  up  suddenly  from  his  long  reverie,  hur 
riedly  placed  his  flowers  and  stories  in  a  basket,  took 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  DOCTOR.  55 

his  medicine-chest  and  overcoat,  and  went  out  to  wake 
up  Lady  Snowdrop. 

Too  much  inactivity  had  made  her  lazier  than  ever, 
and  all  his  urging  could  only  induce  her  to  jog  wearily 
along  on  a  slow  trot. 

Riding  out  into  the  suburbs  of  the  village,  he  passed 
the  little  red  school-house  glowing  brightly  from  its 
grove  of  trees.  It  was  recess  time,  and  the  children 
were  scattered  about  over  the  grounds  playing  ball; 
while  among  the  shrubbery  he  caught  sight  of  the 
school-mistress  walking  up  and  down  the  green  turf 
with  a  crowd  of  the  younger  children  listening,  wide- 
mouthed  and  breathless,  to  some  wonderful  story  she 
seemed  to  be  relating.  In  reality,  it-  was  one  of  her 
own  invention,  of  fairy  origin,  and  embellished  elabor 
ately  with  flying  vehicles  that  looked  like  bees  or  birds 
when  high  up  in  the  air,  but  which,  when  they  alighted 
on  the  ground,  turned  out  to  be  only  gigs,  with  great 
wheels  for  wings  that  buzzed  round  and  round.  These 
odd  vehicles  had  little  fairies  in  them,  whose  hands 
were  made  of  pure  yellow  gold,  which  the  other  fairy 
folk  disliked  very  much,  although  the  queer  fairies  who 
flew  about  were  very  good  people;  and  when  the  sky 
was  darkened  with  these  weird  flying  things,  and  the 
air  was  filled  with  a  deep,  roaring  buzz,  everybody 
knew  that  they  were  coming  to  bring  honey-dew  and 
pieces  of  bright,  silver-hued  cloud  for  all  the  poor  little 
fairies  that  were  not  big  enough  to  get  these  things  for 
themselves.  The  gig  part  was  not  a  premeditated  fea 
ture,  but  one  that  grew  out  of  the  story  as  she  was  tell 
ing  it,  like  a  sudden  inspiration,  and  she  had  just  got 
to  the  place  where  she  had  to  describe  the  humming 


56  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

noise  when  something  very  appropriate  to  the  story 
sounded  out  in  the  road.  She  looked,  and  there  was 
the  Doctor,  appearing  very  opportunely,  and  so  she 
laughed  and  felt  quite  merry  over  it.  He  had  thought 
when  he  first  saw  her  it  would  be  a  good  opportunity  to 
speak,  and  then  immediately  his  courage  had  failed,  and 
he  decided  to  postpone  it  to  a  future  time,  although  the 
following  day  was  Saturday,  when  he  would  have  liked 
to  take  her  out  to  the  hospital.  He  had  actually  urged 
Lady  Snowdrop  into  a  run  as  he  passed  along  by  the 
fence  and  the  gate,  but  Miss  Warren  suddenly  caught 
a  glimpse  of  him,  and  bowed  pleasantly  and  smiled,  as 
if  to  bid  him  godspeed  on  his  mission,  and  then  see 
ing  him  pull  up  the  reins  slightly,  ran  down  by  the 
fence  to  speak  with  him. 

The  school-mistress  was  sociable  and  agreeable  and 
in  the  best  of  spirits  that  morning,  so  she  chatted  away 
animatedly,  all  the  while  looking  curiously  at  his  high- 
wheeled  cart,  and  smiling  to  herself  to  think  such  a 
story  about  it  as  she  had  just  been  telling  the  children 
should  present  itself  to  her  fancy.  And  finally,  when  the 
Doctor  summoned  up  courage  enough  to  suggest  his  new 
plan  to  her,  and  the  thought  struck  her  suddenly  that 
she  soon  would  have  a  drive  in  that  odd  little  cart 
which  had  made  such  an  impression  upon  her  mind,  she 
laughed  outright,  and  thereby  hurt  the  Doctor's  feelings 
grievously;  for  considering  his  long  meditation  over  the 
matter,  he  was  of  course  even  more  sensitive  than  usual. 
But  she  answered  him  so  heartily  and  earnestly,  that 
she  would  take  great  pleasure  in  going,  and  seemed  so 
sweet  and  gentle  standing  there  under  the  trees,  the 
rich  yellow  sunshine  drifting  down  through  the  shad- 


A   GLIMPSE   OF   THE   DOCTOR.  57 

ows  and  touching  her  nut-brown  hair  with  glints  of 
gold,  while  her  soft  blue  eyes,  like  the  fair  azure  flowers 
of  the  flax,  looked  up  to  him  so  innocently  and  reassur 
ingly,  that  he  felt  somewhat  soothed.  Yes,  to-morrow 
would  do,  she  said,  and  she  would  be  all  ready  at  any 
hour  he  might  name.  So  they  planned  to  start  rather 
early,  because  it  was  so  pleasant  riding  in  the,  fresh 
morning  air.  And  then  the  Doctor  drove  slowly  away, 
but  feeling  yet  a  little  uncomfortable  because  she 
had  laughed.  Before  he  had  gone  far,  he  heard  one  of 
the  children  call  out  in  a  shrill,  infantile  tone,  "Teacher, 
won't  you  please  tell  us  now  the  rest  of  that  story 
about  the  fairies  that  flied  about  in  the  sulky-looking 
things?"  and  " teacher"  was  thankful  that  childish 
understanding  had  misconstrued  the  idea,  even  though 
it  had  called  the  vehicles  such  unrom antic  things  as 
sulkies,  while  the  Doctor  wondered  a  little  if  it  could 
have  any  remote  reference  to  his  gig.  But  he  looked 
around,  and  his  ease  was  partially  restored  when  he  saw 
the  school-mistress  standing  where  he  had  left  her, — 
leaning  upon  the  fence  and  looking  thoughtfully  and 
dreamily  out  toward  the  low  line  of  hills  in  the  distance, 
her  fair  face  looking  like  a  delicate  little  flower  blos 
soming  out  of  the  leafy  locusts  behind  her. 

Lady  Snowdrop  was  aggravatingly  independent  all 
day,  and  annoyed  the  Doctor  considerably  by  persist 
ently  refusing  to  hurry  herself  a  particle;  but  retribu 
tion  of  the  worst  nature  followed  when  the  Doctor's  man 
walked  her  out  of  the  stable  before  sunrise  the  next 
morning,  two  hours  earlier  than  usual,  when  the  air 
was  not  any  too  warm,  and  gave  her  white  sleek  hide 
a  good  rubbing  with  a  wet  sponge,  and  then  hitched 


58  ABOUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

her  into  the  gig,  that  had  undergone  a  polishing  also, 
and  drove  her  around  to  the  Doctor's  office.  Yet  she 
had  known  worse  days,  for  she  had  formerly  belonged 
to  the  first  Dr.  Knapp,  who  knew  how  to  use-  a  whip 
quite  effectively,  and  she  had  been  trotted  out  on  nu 
merous  occasions  and  taken  to  the  office,  which  had  been 
his  also,  at  very  untimely  hours,  sometimes  in  the  dead 
of  night.  But  lately  life  had  been  getting  so  delicious 
that  this  treatment  seemed  harsh  in  comparison. 

The  Doctor  came  out  very  briskly,  and  consequently 
gave  her  a  terrible  fright,  by  making  her  think  it  was 
really  the  first  Dr.  Knapp  back  again,  and  no  doubt 
she  felt  as  if  she  should  be  dealt  with  very  consider 
ately  on  account  thereof;  —  of  all  which  the  Doctor  was 
profoundly  ignorant,  and  so  could  not  be  censured  for 
not  acting  accordingly  sympathetic,  though  it  is  more 
than  likely  he  would  have  done  so  had  he  known. 

Miss  Warren  was  not  in  a  mood  to  laugh  about  the 
Doctor's  cart  this  morning  when  he  drove  up,  oven 
though  his  horse  stepped  as  high  as  ever,  and  he  made 
such  a  short  turn  out  in  front  of  the  gate  that  the  huge 
fish-rod  whip  standing  out  grandly  on  the  right  appeared 
like  a  pivot  with  the  left  wheel  and  the  horse  swinging 
round  it.  She  greeted  him  so  cordially  that  he  felt  as 
delighted  as  a  boy,  and  assisted  her  into  the  gig  with 
far  more  boldness  than  he  otherwise  would  have  done, 
and  could  not  help  feeling  a  little  proud,  as  they  drove 
out  of  town  through  the  locust  groves,  to  have  her  there, 
—  such  a  sweet,  light-hearted  young  girl,  shedding  sun 
shine  freely  all  around  her,  and  actually  planning  for 
and  taking  a  deep  interest  in  his  work. 

Locustville  was  a  pretty  little  village,  its  homelike 


A   GLIMPSE   OF   THE   DOCTOR.  59 

houses  planted  like  a  collection  of  gems  in  the  midst  of 
the  great  valley  country,  and  from  it  roads,  smooth  and 
hard  and  well  kept,  led  out  in  all  directions,  lined  for 
quite  a  distance  with  locusts,  that  made  very  pleasant 
drives.  Lois  was  in  a  most  joyous  mood,  taking  a  keen 
pleasure  in  the  green  trees  that  had  budded  out  with 
full  bright  leaves,  and  after  they  reached  the  open  fields, 
still  more  in  the  gentle  slopes  blooming  forth  with  the 
first  promise  of  spring-time;  in  the  dew  spread  like  a 
white  frosty  crust  over  all  the  grass,  and  sparkling 
brilliantly  as  they  rode  past,  with  green  and  white  and 
purple  flashes  in  the  tender  morning  sunshine;  and  in 
the  air  that  bore  a  delightful  freshness  and  exhilaration, 
and  the  sweet  early  odors  of  the  clover  meadows. 

So  they  drove  on  together,  while  the  country  opened 
out  around  them  like  the  fair  pastures  of  Arcadia,  be 
coming  so  interested  in  their  conversation  that  both 
forgot  Lady  Snowdrop  was  taking  advantage  of  their 
abstraction,  not  feeling  particularly  lively  after  getting 
up  so  early,  even  if  the  world  was  lovely  and  hearts 
were  light. 

The  school-mistress  could  not  resist  a  strange  feeling 
of  satisfaction  that  she  was  riding  in  the  cart  that 
had  exercised  such  an  influence  over  her  mind  when 
she  first  saw  it;  and  besides,  it  was  remarkably  easy 
to  ride  in,  much  more  so  than  it  looked  to  be,  rolling 
smoothly  into  the  shallow  ditches,  and  springing  out 
again  with  a  lightness  that  was  very  pleasant.  She 
wondered  how  they  looked  there  in  the  gig.  She  could 
scarcely  add  herself  to  the  picture,  the  Doctor  alone  on 
the  wide  seat  seemed  so  inseparably  connected  with  it; 
yet  she  knew  they  must  look  quite  the  game,  for  there 


60  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

was  the  whip  and  everything,  even  to  the  gloves.  She 
turned  toward  the  Doctor  to  see  them  again,  —  she  was 
always  so  irresistibly  attracted  to  them,  —  and  saw  on 
the  lapel  of  his  coat  something  she  had  not  noticed 
before.  It  was  a  tiny  bunch  of  forget-me-nots  and 
honeysuckles,  which  she  recognized  as  one  of  those  she 
had  sent  him  the  evening  before  for  his  patients, 
although  he  had  ingeniously  disguised  its  identity  by 
putting  in  with  it  a  locust  leaf, — the  only  thing  in  the 
way  of  an  addition  to  the  flowers  he  could  procure  when 
he  took  it.  Her  heart  was  touched.  It  betokened 
such  feeling  and  pride,  blended  with  such  a  gentle 
heart,  that  it  sent  a  thrill  and  a  warmth  to  her  own. 
"  The  dear  old  Doctor,"  she  said  to  herself;  "  how  very, 
very  nice  and  good  he  isl" 


LOVE'S  LATE  BLOSSOMING.  61 


CHAPTER   V. 

LOVE'S   LATE   BLOSSOMING. 

It  owns 

A  richer  soil  and  boasts  a  quicker  seed  1 
You  look  for  it.  and  see  it  not;  and  lo  ! 
E'en  while  you  look,  the  peerless  flower  is  up, 
Consummate  in  the  birth. 

The  Hunchback. 

A  SHARP,  high  voice,  breaking  rudely  upon  the  still 
ness  of  the  long  corridors  in  the  hospital,  greeted  the 
Doctor  and  Lois  as  they  reached  the  head  of  the  broad 
staircase.  "  Maybe  I  will,  and  maybe  I  won't,"  it  said; 
and  a  little  red-haired  girl  of  about  sixteen,  with  two 
bright  red  spots  burning  on  her  cheeks,  and  the  acme 
of  anger  snapping  in  both  her  round  blue  eyes,  came 
down  to  meet  them,  fairly  sputtering  to  herself. 

"  Hy  there,"  said  the  Doctor,  lifting  his  finger  warn- 
ingly.  "  That 's  unkind,  Nettie,  to  make  such  a  noise 

—  such  a  disturbance  —  among  sick  folks.     What's 
the  trouble?" 

"Well,  I'll  just  tell  you,"  said  she,  standing  herself 
up  saucily  before  them.  "  That  mean,  contemptible  — 

"  Be  careful,"  chided  the  listener. 

"  Well,  I  don't  care,  she  is  one.  And  I  '11  tell  you 
what  she  did.  I  thought  I  'd  get  up  a  little  fun  amidst 
those  long-faced,  sober-eyed  creatures,  who  never  smile 
once  a  century,  and  so  I  played  an  innocent  little  joke, 

—  I  just  dripped  some  water  on  Sam  Nailer's  head,  to 


62  f  ABOUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

see  him  get  mad  and  try  to  find  out  where  it  came  from, 
and  she  said  I  should  n't  come  into  her  ward  again  if 
she  had  to  dust  and  sweep  nights  herself  to  keep  me 
out,  and  she  actually  boxed  my  ears  and  pushed  me 
through  the  door." 

"Who  did?  V 

"Why,  that  mean,  old,  vinegar-mouthed,  lazy  — 

"Here,  here!  You  are  excited;  you  are  too  angry," 
said  the  Doctor.  "  Tell  me  who,  without  any  descrip 
tion  of  what  she  is  like,  — just  the  simple  name." 

"  Well,  I  will,  if  I  can  mention  such  a  —  such  a  — 
well,  Mrs.  Kent,  who  don't  know  anything  but  to  eat 
and  boss,  and  be  just  as  fault-finding,  and  insinuating, 
and  disagreeable  —  "  She  stopped,  not  because  she  re 
membered  the  Doctor's  injunctions,  but  because  she 
noticed  Lois  for  the  first  time,  in  her  blind  rage,  as 
something  worth  seeing  instead  of  a  mere  being  in 
company  with  the  Doctor.  The  two  girls  were  about 
the  same  size,  and  had  on  hats  nearly  alike,  broad- 
brimmed,  bright  straws  of  the  same  shape,  but  Nettie's 
was  trimmed  with  knots  of  pink  and  white  ribbon,  and 
Lois  had  woven  a  bunch  of  English  daisies  into  the 
lace  on  hers.  Here,  however,  all  likeness  between  them 
ended,  for  Nettie's  flushed  countenance  suffered  in  com 
parison  with  the  soft  whiteness  of  Lois's  expressive  face. 
The  Doctor  had  mistaken  Lois  for  this  wayward,  im 
petuous  girl  that  spring-time  afternoon  of  the  past, 
which  seemed  to  her  so  very  long  ago,  as  he  rode 
dreaming  through  the  locust-trees;  but  he  was  so  likely 
to  commit  such  blunders  from  inattention  that  it  was 
not  at  all  surprising. 

"Aha! "  said  Nettie,  changing  her  sharp  tone  to  one 


LOVE'S   LATE   BLOSSOMING.  63 

of  jest;  "  I  '11  bet  I  know  your  tricks,  Doctor.  You  re 
member  one  day  some  weeks  ago  when  you  came  out 
from  Locustville  you  told  me  you  thought  you  saw  me, 
but  were  mistaken.  I  —  know  —  your  —  games.  You 
were  trying  to  flirt,  and  I  just  guess  you  have  suc 
ceeded  —  " 

"Come,"  said  Dr.  Knapp,  sedately,  stopping  her. 
"I've  no  time  to  talk.  Make  no  more  noise  here,  Net 
tie;  it 's  very  unkind  to  do  so;  I  'd  advise  you  to  take  a 
walk  till  you  feel  better  ";  and  he  passed  by  her  in  a 
hurried  manner,  as  if  annoyed.  Lois  opened  her  eyes 
wide  in  wonder.  Who  was  this  girl  who  dared  talk  in 
such  a  strain  to  the  grave,  dignified,  yet  kind-hearted 
man  beside  her?  However  ludicrous  he  might  appear 
sometimes  by  his  carelessness  in  minor  matters,  or 
about  things  with  which  he  was  unacquainted,  yet  his 
kind  manner  and  profound  learning  won  their  way  to 
the  esteem  and  respect  of  all. 

However,  he  said  nothing  about  her,  appearing  to  be 
quite  absorbed  in  thought,  and  Lois  soon  forgot  it  as 
they  made  their  rounds  through  the  quiet  wards,  and 
she  found  so  much  to  do,  and  so  many  encouraging, 
comforting  things  to  say  to  the  poor  sufferers,  that  the 
Doctor  compared  her  in  his  mind  to  a  sunbeam  shining 
down  upon  a  patch  of  primroses,  making  them  bloorn 
out  wherever  she  passed.  He  did  not  say  quite  so  much 
as  that  to  her,  though;  but  she  knew  he  was  greatly 
pleased.  Lois  had  never  had  much  experience  in  car 
ing  for  the  sick,  but  her  warm,  quick  sympathies  sug 
gested  scores  of  things  to  relieve  them.  She  remained 
long  at  the  bedside  of  the  poor  man  to  whom  she  had 
written  the  letter,  feeling  especially  interested  in  him. 


64  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

He  was  suffering  from  a  disease  of  the  heart  that  made 
him  look  old  and  haggard,  though  he  had  not  yet 
reached  middle  age.  His  eyes  were  very  bright  and  his 
mind  very  active  for  one  so  wasted  by  the  cruel  hand 
of  pain;  and  she  discovered  before  she  had  talked  long 
with  him  an  imaginative  vein  in  his  conversation  that 
was  very  pleasant,  so  she  lingered  to  interest  him  in  a 
story  of  one  of  her  little  pupils,  and,  to  keep  up  his  in 
terest  in  it,  promised  to  write  the  rest  as  it  developed 
with  time.  He  listened  with  eagerness,  and  talked 
freely  with  her  about  himself  when  she  had  finished. 
Incidentally  she  learned  that  he  was  a  lawyer,  and 
that  his  name  was  James  Knowles.  He  was  not  ex 
actly  poor,  he  said,  though  his  health  had  always  pre 
vented  him  from  accumulating  wealth.  Then  he  grew 
enthusiastic,  and  his  eyes  blazed  with  light  as  he  talked 
of  the  law,  and  launched  into  long  arguments,  develop 
ing  into  an  orator  of  considerable  interest,  touching  up 
his  sentences  with  bright  flashes  of  wit,  and  weaving  po 
etical  fancies  into  the  dull,  heavy  prose  of  law,  in  a  way 
that  was  very  ingenious.  Finally,  he  forgot  his  weak 
ness  entirely,  and  half  rose  on  his  elbow,  while  his 
voice  lost  its  hollow  rattle,  and  grew  clear  and  mellow, 
and  rose  louder  and  louder,  till  Lois  was  quite  alarmed 
lest  he  should  become  too  excited,  and  increase  his 
illness.  So,  in  a  pause,  she  said  she  must  go,  but 
promised  to  come  and  see  him  again  if  she  visited  the 
hospital,  and  to  write  the  rest  of  her  little  story  as  fast 
as  she  learned  it;  and  leaving  him  a  bunch  of  violets, 
she  stole  quietly  away. 

The  Doctor  came  to  her  in  the  little  reception-room, 
after  he  had  made  his  rounds,  and  told  her  it  was  time 


LOVE'S  LATE   BLOSSOMING.  65 

for  dinner.  "  I  shall  introduce  you  to  a  very  good  old 
lady,  Miss  Warren,"  he  said.  "  She  is  a  little  queer,— 
a  little  odd,  —  but  a  very  nice  old  lady.  The  young 
girl  we  saw  as  we  came  in  is  her  grandchild,  —  a 
wayward  girl,  full  uf  tricks  and  fun,  a  little  high-tem 
pered,  but  good  in  the  main,  I  'm  sure.  I  generally 
dine  there  when  I  remain  over  here  all  day,  so  she  will 
expect  us." 

Lois  went  as  in  a  dream  through  the  wide,  quiet 
streets,  past  lovely  homes  surrounded  by  fair,  bloom 
ing  gardens,  and  green,  bright  lawns,  and  here  a  hedge 
ablow  with  brilliant  flowers,  and  there  another  scatter 
ing  perfume  on  the  soft  air,  —  and  all  having  a  stately, 
quiet,  and  calm  repose. 

"This  is  Mrs.  Hunman's  house,  where  we  are  to 
dine,"  said  the  Doctor;  "  I  like  it,  and  do  not  mind  the 
walk,  though  it  is  quite  a  distance  out  in  the  suburbs, 
and  I  'm  generally  in  a  hurry,  —  quite  rushed,  —  and 
can  scarcely  spare  the  time." 

It  was  an  old,  white,  tumble-down  honse  with  a  steep 
gable-roof  and  dim  green  blinds,  but  it  was  set  in  a 
mass  of  overgrown,  luxuriant  flowers,  vines  running  riot, 
and  trees  with  long,  untrimmed,  and  whip-like  branches 
stretching  across  the  walk,  and  interweaving  themselves 
into  a  tangle  of  apple  and  .acacia,  oleander  and  cherry, 
and  scarlet-tipped  pomegranate,  until  only  the  upper 
portion  of  the  house,  protected  by  the  eaves,  gleamed 
white  through  the  glinting  foliage.  It  was  just  the 
time  of  year  to  ramble  through  this  queer  old  garden, 
when  spring  had  changed  its  dusky  green  leaves  to  new 
ones,  pale  and  oily  and  crinkled,  and  its  grass  grew 
knee-deep  and  sweet  and  wild,  wilting  in  spots  where 


G6  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

tho  sun  shone  liot,  cool  and  fresh  in  the  shadow,  dew- 
wet  and  lighted  by  starry  little  flowers  deep  down  next 
the  damp,  mossy  earth,  and  springing  up  tall  and  rank 
in  the  brambles  of  wild  rose  and  passion-flower  beside 
the  green  hedges.  Honeysuckle  and  late  violets  made 
the  air  delicious  with  fragrance,  and  morning-glories 
opened  wide  into  blossoms  of  purple  and  white  and 
pink,  and  swayed  and  glowed  like  dainty  little  bells  of 
sun-kissed  cloud,  so  airy  and  delicate  were  they,  creep 
ing  up  to  hide  with  their  tender  beauty  the  weather- 
stained  walls  of  the  old-fashioned  house. 

Lois  was  charmed  with  the  place.  "It  seems  so 
homelike,"  she  said  to  the  Doctor,  as  they  passed  up 
the  sparkling  gravel  walk,  and  he  smiled  and  said  it 
pleased  him,  too,  because  it  carried  him  back  to  the 
sharp-roofed  country-houses  of  New  England,  where 
the  people  loved  natural,  unstudied  effects  rather  than 
trimmed  and  rigid  cultivation. 

"  I  '11  get  you  a  rose,"  he  said,  turning  aside  where  a 
cluster  of  half-blown  buds  nodded  temptingly  on  a 
bending  stalk.  But  as  usual,  he  was  in  a  hurry,  and 
tore  away  at  the  bush  till  a  shower  of  old  roses  rained 
around  him,  and  the  long  stiff  thorns  made  a  rent  in 
his  yellow  gloves;  but  he  succeeded  in  getting  them  at 
last  by  using  his  knife,  and  presented  them  to  Lois. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said  delightedly.  "  But  you  have 
torn  your  glove,  Dr.  Knapp,  in  getting  them;  I  ought 
to  make  you  some  reparation  for  taking  so  much  trouble 
on  my  account,  —  I  '11  mend  the  gloves  for  you." 

The  Doctor  almost  blushed,  he  was  so  astonished. 
To  have  her  offer  to  do  such  a  thing,  when  he  would 
not  have  asked  her  to  do  it  for  the  big  round  world, 


LOVE'S   LATE   BLOSSOMING.  07 

seemed  like  a  new  experience  to  him.  A  torn  glove 
was  one  to  throw  away.  He  could  not  bother  to  hunt 
up  motherly  people  who  would  mend  his  torn  garments. 
But  Lois  was  just  the  sort  of  girl  who,  regardless  of 
rules  of  propriety,  did  what  her  heart  prompted,  and 
what  she  thought  should  not  be  neglected.  Little  did 
she  care  who  would  laugh  because  she  was  going  to 
mend  the  Doctor's  gloves.  She  preferred  that  to  see 
ing  him  drive  around  with  holes  in  them,  as  she  was 
afraid  he  would.  And  she  was  willing  to  let  people  say 
what  they  wished  when  she  offended  their  sense  of  the 
fitness  of  things,  so  long  as  she  accomplished  the  work 
she  had  in  view.  But  this  would  be  nothing  compared 
with  the  sensation  she  stirred  up  one  day  long  ago  when 
during  school  recess  a  simpering  young  beau  called, 
who  was  only  slightly  acquainted  with  the  school 
mistress,  arid  found  her  demurely  dragging  in  a  sob 
bing  urchin  who  had  exasperated  her  but  a  short  time 
before  by  learning  his  spelling  lesson  from  the  pictures 
in  his  book,  and  calling  h-e-n,  chicken.  -But  she  ig 
nored  the  caller  who  interrupted  her  work,  after  pro 
viding  him  a  seat,  forgave  the  barefooted  infantile 
offender  his  fault,  and  proceeded  to  wash  the  dirty 
little  tear-stained  face,  and  set  him  down  solidly  in 
her  lap,  while  she  tied  up  in  salve  and  soft  linen  his 
bleeding  toe,  the  stubbing  of  which  had  caused  all 
his  sorrowful  tears.  So  the  beau,  who  found  that 
the  school-mistress  preferred  taking  care  of  naughty 
urchins  to  talking  with  him,  shortened  his  call,  and 
went  away  with  a  wonderful  tale  to  relate.  But  Lois 
only  laughed  when  she  heard  of  it,  and  still  kept  on 
Bowing  "  tears  "  in  torn  jackets,  picking  out  splinters, 


68  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

and  washing  dirty  faces  before  any  spectators  who  cared 
to  look. 

And  so  she  took  it  as  a  matter-of-fact  duty  to  be  done, 
while  the  Doctor  was  so  much  surprised  that  he  could 
scarcely  settle  the  thought  in  his  own  mind  for  a  few 
minutes.  Nevertheless,  he  rather  liked  the  idea,  not 
any  more  because  it  was  entirely  new  to  him  to  have 
young  ladies — or  old  ladies,  either — offer  to  mend  his 
gloves,  than  because  it  showed  a  warm  heart  that  loved 
to  be  helpful  with  true  womanly  instinct. 

Mrs.  Hunman,  a  quaint  old  lady,  with  a  long  hook 
nose,  gray  locks  coiled  in  smooth  loops  on  the  back  of 
her  head,  and  gold-bowed  glasses  that  were  ever  shin 
ing  in  the  light  like  chips  of  ice,  opened  the  door  for 
them  as  they  came  up  the  steps,  and  showed  them,  with 
a  great  deal  of  ceremony,  into  her  little  parlor,  worn 
and  faded  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  the  sunshine 
seldom  got  a  peep  into  its  musty  corners  to  steal  away 
their  bright  hues.  She  was  very  slow  and  old-fash 
ioned,  and,  as  the  Doctor  had  said,  a  little  odd;  but  she 
had  a  patient,  motherly  look  upon  her  face,  indicating 
that  she  was  certain  to  endure  the  wilful  pranks  of 
troublesome  Nettie,  and  all  other  annoyances,  with 
gentle  forbearance. 

Mrs.  Hunman  was  seldom  blessed  with  company. 
Her  heart  was  so  filled  with  her  duties  to  the  five 
grown  sons,  who  came  to  "  mother  "  like  spoiled  chil 
dren  whenever  fortune  did  not  roar  with  laughter,  that 
she  had  little  room  left  for  other  things.  But  to-day 
the  dim  green  blinds  were  opened  wide  to  let  in  the 
mellow  sunlight,  and  out  in  the  dining-room  Nettie 
stepped  about  briskly  to  bring  out  Grandma  Huninan's 


LOVE'S  LATE   BLOSSOMING*  69 

snowdrop  linen,  her  best  silver,  and  fine  china,  while 
grandma  herself  made  custards,  roasted  joints,  and 
prepared  sauces  that  were  a  marvel  of  deliciousness. 
And  Lois,  who  ventured  out  to  offer  her  help,  fell  in 
with  the  spirit  of  this  festive  occasion  immediately,  and 
beat  up  eggs  and  made  creams  with  evident  satisfac 
tion,  even  enlisting  the  Doctor  into  service  by  calling 
on  him  to  open  a  bottle  of  catsup,  and  getting  him  to 
roam  about  the  garden  in  search  of  a  garland  with 
which  to  decorate  the  table. 

After  he  had  looked  about  helplessly  in  the  hope  of 
finding  something  appropriate,  and  even  wishing  it  was 
herbs  for  medicine  that  he  was  hunting  instead  of 
flowers,  he  stood  so  in  fear  of  offending  Lois's  delicate 
taste,  she  caught  up  her  hat  and  went  out  to  help  him; 
and  together  they  rambled  about  through  the  wild  old 
garden,  among  its  fruit-trees  and  flowers,  and  Lois  at 
last  gathered  a  bunch  of  white  lilacs,  vanquishing  the 
Doctor  when  he  suggested  that  they  add  a  spray  of 
pomegranate  to  brighten  it.  She  was  too  practical  to 
waste  the  fruit  for  the  sake  of  the  blossom,  while  the 
Doctor  argued  that  the  flower  when  matured  into  fruit 
could  not  give  more  pleasure  than  it  would  now  in  the 
vase.  However,  she  had  her  way,  and  said  Mrs.  Hun- 
man's  pomegranate  blooms  should  ripen  if  it  depended 
on  her  to  take  them;  so  the  Doctor  gallantly  dropped 
the  subject. 

He  could  not  maintain  his  ground  against  so  fair  an 
adversary  as  Lois,  flitting  about  in  the  neglected  luxu 
riance  of  the  garden,  her  lithe  form  and  light  gray  dress 
reminding  him  of  a  happy  little  bird,  and  her  face,  with 
the  soft  white  bloom  upon  it,  of  the  delicate  fairness  of 
the  pale  syringas. 


70  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

And  on  this  day,  —  this  inspiring,  cool,  sweet  day  of 
spring,  when  the  grasses  drank  the  sunshine  and  seemed 
glad,  and  the  birds  sang  as  if  all  the  universe  were  full 
of  joy,  when  the  far-off  hills  stood  out  from  their  envel 
oping  mists  with  a  new  beauty  of  purple,  and  seemed 
releasing  from  their  heart  of  mysteries  some  spell  of  old 
that  restored  all  the  spirit  longed  for  and  dispelled  its 
sorrows, — the  Doctor  himself  yielded  to  this  strange 
new  charm  of  life,  and  felt  his  youth  renewed,  and 
hope  once  more,  like  a  great  rushing  host  of  pleasures, 
fill  his  soul.  He  felt  it  lift  him  up  on  another  plane  of 
existence  far  above  petty  discords  and  selfish  ambitions, 
to  show  him  the  great  billowy  beauty  of  that  unknown 
country  he  had  never  seen  save  in  his  dreams,  to  as 
sure  him  that  its  mystic  splendors  were  indeed  a  real 
ity,  and  to  give  him  a  breath  of  its  perfumed  breezes 
and  a  taste  of  its  pure  waters  that  bring  more  happi 
ness  than  any  other  blessing  to  the  children  of  earth, — 
the  sacred  springs  of  love. 

The  truth  was,  the  Doctor  was  the  veriest  boy  in  his 
inward  feelings;  and  it  was  the  first  free  stirrings  of  this 
sentiment,  which  he  had  always  crushed,  that  made  the 
world  seem  fairer.  The  mere  indulgence,  as  a  tangible 
possibility,  of  these  thoughts  had  unloosed  the  fountains 
of  that  holiest  of  holies  in  his  heart,  and  the  sweetness 
thereof  seemed  welling  forth  to  enrich  his  life  with  a 
new-found  glory  forever  after. 

And  so  it  was  that  he  gathered  more  than  earthly 
flowers  that  day,  when  life  opened  its  best  secret  for 
him;  he  gathered  blossoms,  which,  even  when  they 
blight,  press  forth  their  fragrance  through  all  the  weary 
days  that  follow,  to  cheer  us  and  remind  us  they  were 


71 

culled  from  the  fair  country  that  borders  on  the  fields 
of  Paradise. 

To  Lois  the  time  seemed  just  like  other  times  of 
spring  and  sunshine;  no  better  joy  was  there  than  the 
bright  reopening  of  the  year,  the  sunlit  day  that  was 
just  like  other  days  of  light  and  bloom,  and  she  was 
happy-hearted  just  because  it  was  her  nature  so  to  be. 

But  to  the  Doctor  her  very  presence  gave  forth  uncon 
sciously  a  spell  that  was  more  subtile,  more  potent  in 
the  garden  of  his  heart,  than  the  warming  influence  of 
the  sun  could  be  in  all  the  golden  pastures  of  the  earth. 
It  riot  only  revived  nature,  but  planted  neglected  deso 
lation  with  the  sweetness  of  the  rose.  And  with  that 
quiet  delight  came  the  purpose  and  the  hope  to  keep 
her  always  near  him.  Not  that  this  feeling  took  pos 
session  of  his  mind  with  any  palpable  distinctness;  it 
crept  over  him  with  a  peace  that  silenced  all  strivings 
after  anything  better,  and  he  rested  calmly  in  blissful 
contentment  with  the  present,  and  felt  satisfied  with 
the  undefined  and  beautiful  yet  unsought  blessedness 
of  the  future  that  troubled  him  not. 

If  good  Mrs.  Hunman  was  unusually  careful  in  the 
preparation  of  her  dinner,  she  felt  thrice  repaid  for 
the  trouble  she  had  taken  in  the  serving  of  it.  It  was 
a  rare  occasion  to  her.  And  she  was  pleased  with  the 
homelike  scene,  when  all  were  seated  around  the  table, 
her  five  sons,  —  most  of  them  nearly  as  old  as  the  Doc 
tor,  but  all  bachelors  except  Nettie's  father,  who  was  a 
widower,  and  back  under  his  mother's  care  again, — 
jolly  old  Mr.  Hunman  with  his  grizzly  side-whis 
kers,  and  red  hair  all  awry,  looking  like  a  subject 
for  a  picture-card,  and  Nettie  cuddling  up  lovingly  to 


72  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

her  grandpa,  the  only  person  in  the  world  to  whom  she 
was  uniformly  civil;  and  then  the  Doctor  and  Lois,  the 
distinguished  company  who  honored  Mrs.  Hunman  im 
measurably,  simply  by  their  presence.  And  never,  it 
seemed  to  her,  did  the  light  fall  more  prettily  over  her 
snowy  linen  till  it  seemed  spotted  with  the  white  bright 
ness  of  silver,  over  her  polished  glass  till  it  glittered 
like  crushed  ice,  and  even  over  the  drops  of  water  on 
the  goblet  that  held  Lois's  lilacs  till  they  sparkled 
with  a  clearness  that  seemed  purity  and  freshness 
crystallized. 

Nettie  was  very  quiet  at  first,  but  cast  inquisitive 
and  meaning  glances  from  her  round  blue  eyes  toward 
the  guests  at  regular  intervals.  By  her  defiant  air,  she 
evidently  did  not  like  Lois,  yet  she  was  more  than  or 
dinarily  interested  in  watching  every  movement. 

Mrs.  Hunman  was  bent  on  entertaining  the  Doctor, 
but  her  simple  store  of  conversation  concerned  only  the 
workings  of  her  own  home,  so  she  looked  up  over  the 
glistening  spectacles  and  said  very  earnestly,  "  It 's  real 
nice  weather  we're  having  these  days,  Doctor,  isn't  it? 
He  helped  with  the  wash  yesterday.  I  thought  I  'd  have 
him,  because  the  sun  was  so  bright  that  the  things  dried 
quick."  The  Doctor  was  not  much  mystified  by  this 
remark,  though  Lois  was  puzzled  to  know  who  "he" 
could  be.  "He"  was  always  Mr.  Hunman.  "He" 
constituted  a  combination  of  gardener  who  never 
worked,  and  housekeeper  who  figeted  around  the  house 
with  the  women  folks  as  if  it  were  his  natural  sphere; 
but  Mrs.  Hunman  never  explained  whom  she  meant. 
That  was  always  to  be  found  out  by  the  elucidation  of 
subsequent  transactions  in  which  "he"  figured,  or  by 
direct  questioning. 


73 

Dr.  Knapp  agreed  with  her,  however,  that  the  weather 
was  very  pleasant,  and  then  asked,  "  Did  you  try  your 
new  plan  of  feeding  peppered  milk  to  your  chickens, 
Mrs.  Hunman?" 

Nettie's  eyes  snapped,  and  ghe  was  prompt  with  an 
answer  before  her  slow  old  grandmother  could  realize 
what  had  been  said. 

"  Feed  it  to  them!  I  should  say  we  did,  and  it  effected 
euch  a  cure  as  would  make  Rome  howl  with  envy, — or 
at  least,  any  one  would  think  it  might  be  Rome,  and 
two  or  three  heathen  cities  thrown  in,  if  they  'd  heard 
the  dogs,  their  mouths  watering  for  chicken  bones." 
There  was  a  vindictive  little  tone  in  her  voice,  that 
meant  something,  though  she  intended  all  should  un 
derstand  her  as  jesting. 

"I  guess  you  didn't  feed  it  to  them  —  "  commenced 
the  Doctor. 

"  But  did  n't  I  just  tell  you  we  did?  "  snapped  Nettie. 

"  But  not  in  a  proper  quantity, — you  gave  them  too 
much." 

"  Well,  suppose  we  did.  Lots  of  people  get  too  much 
of  lots  of  things,  but  they  don't  always  die  about  it. 
Pity  they  don't  sometimes.  I'd  administer  several 
doses  of  *  too  much '  then.  But  I  don't  think  you  'd 
ever  get  too  much  flirta  —  " 

"  What  a  charming  garden  you  have,  Mrs.  Hun 
man,"  remarked  Lois,  ingeniously,  just  at  the  right 
moment. 

"  Yes,  a  delightfully  convenient  place  for  doctors  and 
young  ladies  "  —just  a  slight  emphasis  on  the  "  young  " 
that  made  an  impression,  yet  passed  as  unintentional 
—  "to  roam  about  making  lov  —  lovely  bouquets.  It 


74  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

was  built  just  for  that,  of  course.  But  why  did  n't  you 
take  the  pomegranate  flowers,  Doctor  ?  It  would  have 
been  much  prettier.  I  heard  you  quarrelling  about  it, 
and  I  picked  a  lot  anyway,  afterward.  They  're  in  the 
parlor  now." 

"  Well,  come  to  see  the  lilacs  alone,  they  are  quite  as 
pretty  as  they  would  be  with  the  others,"  said  the  Doc 
tor. 

li  Yes,  I  Ve  no  doubt  you  think  so.  You  are  a  man, 
and  a  man  always  likes  the  homeliest  things  in  crea 
tion;  perhaps  because  they  are  so  much  like  himself. 
But—" 

Mrs.  Hunman  was  horrified.  "Nettie,"  she  said, 
slowly,  "you  are  very  saucy.  You  had  better  not  stay 
here.  Howard,  can't  you  say  something  to  her  ?  " 

Nettie  sat  silent  but  defiant.  Mr.  Hunman  came  to 
the  rescue,  and  said  gently,  "Nettie,  I  really  think 
Jack  is  suffering  for  water.  'E  'as  n't  'ad  any  to-day 
that  I  know  of.  You  'd  better  tend  to  it  right  now." 

Jack  was  grandpa's  dog,  and  Nettie  liked  him  only 
because  grandpa  did;  but  his  words  pacified  her  some, 
and  she  prepared  to  leave  the  table.  One  of  her  long 
array  of  uncles,  the  invincible  Byron,  who  loved  to 
add  a  word  or  two  to  aggravate  her  when  she  was  in 
an  angry  mood,  said,  tantalizingly,  "  If  the  report  goes 
out  around  town  that  you  have  to  be  sent  from  the  table 
many  more  times,  you  '11  never  get  married  in  the 
world." 

"  Neither  will  any  of  the  rest  of  you,"  replied  Nettie, 
with  telling  effect.  She  even  wished  that  she  dared  to 
add  something  about  the  overwhelming  majority  of  old 
bachelors  and  old  maids,  and  even  old  widowers,  at  the 


75 

table,  but  she  refrained  for  grandpa's  sake;  so  with  a 
bow  she  rose,  slyly  pushing  the  dishes  ahead  of  her, 
until  they  struck  a  pitcher  of  cream,  that  was  overturned 
into  Lois's  lap.  Then  she  left  the  room  laughing  to 
herself,  and  hurried  away  so  fast  that  she  could  not 
hear  Mrs.  Hunman's  call  to  bring  a  damp  towel  quickly, 
and  the  good  old  lady  had.  to  get  it  herself.  But  she 
was  even  slower  than  the  Doctor,  who  succeeded  in  fur 
nishing  napkins  and  his  handkerchief  before  she  re 
turned. 

Lois  could  have  cried  about  her  dress,  but  she  said 
nothing,  and  after  the  cream  was  all  wiped  up  and  the 
meal  progressing  in  quiet  again,  she  even  forgot  it. 

The  Doctor  was  such  a  gentleman  in  his  instincts, 
notwithstanding  his  shyness,  that  he  adroitly  intro 
duced  subjects  agreeable  to  all,  and  made  Mrs.  Hun 
man's  dinner  a  very  pleasant  one  in  spite  of  wicked 
Nettie.  Besides,  he  was  very  happy  this  day,  and  his 
happiness  was  so  contagious  that  it  put  every  one 
around  him  in  good  humor. 

And  after  dinner,  and  an  hour  or  two  had  been  spent 
with  the  family  in  the  pleasant  little  parlor,  the  Doc 
tor  left  Lois  to  discuss  with  Mrs.  Hunman  whether 
"he"  had  better  skim  the  milk  at  night  or  in  the 
morning,  and  went  away  to  bring  Lady  Snowdrop  and 
the  gig  around  to  be  ready  for  their  departure.  He 
had  left  her  down  near  the  hospital,  so  he  had  to  walk 
quite  a  distance,  and  it  was  getting  late  when  he  drove 
back. 

The  sunbeams  were  beginning  to  fall  aslant,  and 
steal  in  through  the  purple  shadows  with  subdued 
light,  when  he  drove  up  to  the  gate  at  a  side  en- 


76  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

trance  to  the  garden,  and  the  children  had  gathered 
around  for  evening  play.  A  group  of  boys  were  march 
ing  up  and  down  beside  Mrs.  Hunman's  house,  bearing 
something  triumphantly  above  them  on  a  stick,  while 
a  steady  fire  of  turf  and  dirt  was  pelting  them  from 
over  the  fence.  This  thing  that  they  bore  so  proudly, 
and  sang  "  hi  diddle  dum  de  dum  "  to,  looked  rather 
familiar,  but  somehow  the  Doctor  could  not  understand 
what  this  mass  of  crushed  straw  and  soiled  pink  rib 
bon  could  mean. 

"  What  are  you  doing,  boys?  "  he  asked. 

Young  America,  in  the  form  of  a  blank-faced  urchin, 
turned  and  answered,  "Huh?" 

"  What  have  you  there  on  that  stick?" 

"0-o-oh!  That's  little  sputter-up's  hat.  She  tore 
it  up  and  flung  it  out  here;  an'  we've  got  it  an'  are 
a-plaguin'  her  with  it.  She 's  the  girl  that  lives  in  that 
there  house,  an'  she  gets  awful  mad.  Her  name  's  Net 
tie  Hun  man.  I  heard  her  rowing,  an'  she  said  right 
out  loud  that  it  was  homely,  jest  like  some  other  girl  as 
had  one  like  it." 

And  when  they  were  advised  to  discontinue  their 
sport,  the  boys  reminded  the  Doctor  that  he  did  not 
refrain  from  having  good  times  when  he  was  a  "young 
ster,"  and  could  "  git  'em,"  although  the  Doctor  knew 
better. 

But  that  was  the  last  he  saw  or  heard  of  Nettie  that 
day.  When  they  drove  away  she  was  not  present  with 
the  rest  of  the  family  to  bid  them  good  by,  and  then 
they  forgot  even  her  existence  in  the  beauties  of  the 
fading  day,  the  rosy  sunset  and  the  sleepy  flowers  that 
curled  up  into  mere  buds,  and  left  whole  meadows,  that 


LOVERS  LATE   BLOSSOMING.  77 

had  flamed  with  gold  or  scarlet,  nothing  but  dotted 
beds  of  green. 

The  rich  tender  dusk  stole  around  them  as  they 
drove  along,  the  dews  fell  over  the  dim  and  fading 
pastures,  and  the  tall  grasses,  heavy  with  its  weight, 
nodded  over  shrill-voiced  crickets  that  buzzed  and  sang 
for  miles  along  their  way,  while  the  road  stretched 
white  and  curving  far  out  ahead  of  them,  through  grassy 
plains,  till  lost  in  the  groves  of  Locustville. 

Snowdrop  travelled  along  steadily,  being  headed  for 
home,  and  the  Doctor  felt  this  the  happiest  day  of  all 
his  life,  even  unmarred  by  the  trifling  events  that  had 
seemed  to  disturb  it;  so  he  drank  in  with  a  reverent 
feeling  all  the  beauty  of  the  fading  landscape,  swim 
ming  black  and  mystic  up  against  the  burning  line 
along  the  west,  and  the  darkening  blue  dome  above, 
where  the  stars  swung  like  golden  censers  raining 
incense  through  the  balmy  air,  scattering  all  around 
upon  the  cool,  gentle  breezes  a  fragrance  and  an  elixir 
that  seemed  even  to  renew  his  life,  and  satisfied  all  the 
yearnings  of  his  lonely  heart. 


78  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

TJNSEEN    OBSERVERS. 

Keen  eyes  that  glow 
Unseen  from  brambles 

Crowned  with  bloom,  like  snow. 

Selected. 

MORNING  in  the  Sierras!  What  a  suggestion  of 
breezy  freshness  in  the  cold,  clear  air,  steeped  in  the 
rare  sweet  aroma  of  the  woods  !  What  a  vision  of 
snow-peaks  and  lofty  pines,  and  cool,  dark  canons  over 
grown  with  creeping  vines  and  rank,  rich  ferns ! 

Nellie  Minton  rose  early,  hoping  to  see  Edward  Den 
nett  before  he  became  engrossed  in  business  so  deeply 
as  to  forget  her;  and  had  she  been  of  a  different  tem 
perament,  she  would  have  been  sufficiently  repaid  for 
it  though  she  had  missed  him.  As  it  was,  though  it 
did  not  wholly  satisfy  her,  she  could  not  help  entering 
into  a  mild  admiration  of  the  view  from  her  window,  of 
the  wild  mountains,  clear-cut  and  brightly  blue,  deep 
ened  with  purple  folds  and  seams,  and  set  between  a 
chain  of  snow  and  the  great  timber  belt  sweeping  over 
the  nearer  hills  in  a  vast  surging  ocean  of  fir  and  pine. 
"  It  is  very  pretty  up  here,"  she  said,  as  she  turned, 
yawning,  to  the  mirror.  "  Though  it  is  not  at  all  as  I 
remember  the  place.  I  'm  glad  I  have  one  whole  day 
to  myself,  anyway;  to-morrow  perhaps  I'll  not  be  so 
pleased.  I  wonder  if  I  have  too  much  jewelry  on  for 


UNSEEN    OBSERVERS.  79 

breakfast  at  a  country  resort,"  surveying  herself  in  her 
elegant  dark  morning-dress.  "  I  cannot  spare  ear-rings 
nor  pin,  and  my  watch  I  hate  to  leave  up  here,  for  fear 
I  may  not  see  it  again.  Well,  well,  here  it  goes.  I 
could  afford  to  lose  it  if  its  absence  would  gain  me  any 
thing  in  another  direction." 

Miss  Minton  descended  the  stairs  to  the  bright  little 
morning-room,  where  several  of  the  guests  had  already 
assembled  and  were  admiring  the  beauty  of  the  scenery 
from  the  broad,  clear  windows  looking  out  toward  the 
majestic,  sun-bathed  mountains.  But  the  clear  morn 
ing  had  no  further  charms  for  her  when  she  found  none 
of  her  friends  among  them,  and  so  she  seated  herself 
by  the  fire,  away  from  the  rest.  Soon  she  heard  a 
quick,  firm  step  along  the  hall,  and  Edward  Dennett 
appeared  in  the  door.  "  Good  morning,  Miss  Minton," 
he  said,  cheerily.  "You  are  sitting  by  the  fire;  are 
you  chilly?  I  was  just  coming  to  invite  you  to  view 
our  splendid  landscape  from  the  veranda." 

"  No,  indeed,  I  Jm  not  cold,"  answered  Nellie.  "  I 
was  a  little  lonesome,  that  is  all,  and  so  I  came  here  by 
myself,"  she  added,  demurely,  and  rose  to  follow  him 
out.  She  went  into  ecstacies  over  the  tall  yellow  pines, 
the  unpretentious  yet  picturesque  camp  below  them, 
where  the  miners  lived,  the  mill  with  its  new  roof 
reaching  high  into  the  trees  around  it,  and  the  torn 
piles  of  red  earth  and  rocks  gleaming  still  beyond. 
All  this  was  magnificent  when  Edward  was  standing 
near  her,  though  she  saw  but  little  of  its  beauty  when 
he  was  absent. 

He  escorted  her  into  breakfast  and  waited  on  her 
very  politely,  and  afterward  brought  her  a  number 


80  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

of  entertaining  books  and  magazines,  saying  kindly, 
"These,  I  hope,  will  afford  some  pastime  for  you,  Miss 
Nellie,  when  you  are  wearied  with  looking  about  the 
place.  I  regret  that  I  cannot  spare  a  little  time  to 
relieve  your  loneliness  to-day,  but  business  is  so  urgent 
I  fear  I  shall  be  hurried  as  it  is.  I  wish  you  a  pleasant 
day."  With  these  words  he  hastened  away  as  if  he  had 
already  intruded  upon  his  precious  moments. 

Nellie  was  not  a  young  lady  who  was  fond  of  reading. 
She  looked  over  the  books  carelessly  in  her  room,  and 
then  put  them  aside  without  reading  a  page,  yawning 
indolently,  and  saying  to  herself,  "Well,  well;  now  I 
must  depend  on  George  Brooklyn  to  amuse  me.  He 
shall,  too,  or  I  '11  amuse  myself  some  time,  —  at  his  ex 
pense."  But  the  unhappy  George  escaped  this  evil  only 
by  enduring  a  greater  one,  —  he  was  too  ill  to  rise.  He 
had  taken  a  severe  cold  on  his  journey,  and  so  kept  his 
room  nearly  all  day,  leaving  the  restless  Miss  Minton 
to  interest  herself, — which  she  managed  to  do,  though 
not  very  successfully,  until  she  saw  him  come  out 
toward  evening  and  wrap  himself  up  as  if  intending  to 
take  a  walk.  A  thought  which  seemed  to  Nellie  singu 
larly  bright  suggested  itself  to  her,  and  taking  her  hat 
and  a  light  wrap  she  went  out  too.  "  It  '11  be  fun,"  she 
thought,  "and  I  don't  care  much  if  he  does  catch  me; 
he  knows  I  have  the  advantage,  anyway.  It  '11  be  jolly, 
in  the  absence  of  anything  better,  to  see  what  kind  of 
mischief  the  wretch  will  indulge  in  first." 

He  walked  along  listlessly  across  the  hillside  and 
through  the-  trees,  till  he  came  to  a  little  bridle-path 
winding  in  and  out  among  the  ferny  rocks,  and  over  the 
wood-tangled  gulches,  and  at  last  reached  a  little  open- 


UNSEEN   OBSERVERS.  81 

ing  where  they  could  see  another  path  that  crossed  the 
grassy  swale  just  below.  George  was  disappearing  in 
the  thicket  on  the  other  side  of  this  bit  of  cleared 
ground,  and  Nellie  was  watching  him,  to  see  if  it  was 
best  to  venture  across,  when  she  observed  him  stop  and 
look  at  some  object  through  the  trees  opposite,  and  the 
next  minute  Nita  came  in  sight  in  the  opening  on  the 
woodland  trail  below,  skipping  gayly  along,  with  her 
shawl  over  her  head,  Spanish  fashion,  and  a  basket  of 
eggs  on  her  arm.  The  dark-green  pines  and  the  fresh 
brightness  of  the  flowery  meadow  made  the  loveliest 
kind  of  setting  for  this  sylvan  beauty,  dark-eyed  and 
brilliant,  with  the  rich,  glowing  hues  of  the  wild  ma 
drono  on  her  rounded  cheeks.  Nellie  remained  quiet  till 
she  saw  George  seat  himself  on  a  rock  as  if  to  wait  for 
Nita's  return  from  the  hotel,  whither  the  eggs  were  most 
likely  to  be  taken,  so  she  did  likewise  on  the  other  side 
of  the  clearing.  She  found  the  delay  tiresome,  bent  as 
she  was  on  seeing  the  remainder  of  her  amusement;  but 
George,  after  his  brief  imprisonment,  and  being  too 
ill  to  have  any  surplus  of  wicked  animation,  rather 
enjoyed  sitting  on  this  rock  in  the  sweet-scented  wild- 
wood,  watching  the  sun  tip  with  its  fading  beams  of 
reddish  gold  the  shadowy  masses  of  tall  fir  and  pine, 
the  low,  white-crowned  bushes  of  the  chaparral,  and 
the  mantle  of  plushy  green  which  lay  spread  out  over 
all  the  ground,  from  which  the  little  crickets  were  al 
ready  beginning  to  make  their  weird  songs.  The  sun 
was  nearing  the  horizon  out  beyond  the  woods  in  the 
west,  when  Nita  came  hurrying  back  from  her  errand, 
swinging  the  empty  basket,  and  at  last  putting  it  on 
her  head,  and  trying  to  see  her  way  through  its  open 
willow-work. 


82  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

George  rose  when  he  saw  her  coming,  and  went  down 
by  the  lower  trail,  standing  behind  a  hedge  of  bushes 
to  be  in  readiness,  which  gave  Nellie  an  opportunity  to 
cross  the  open  space  before  Nita  could  see  her.  She 
hid  herself  at  a  convenient  distance  from  George,  and 
listened. 

When  Nita  came  along  he  stepped  out  beside  the 
path,  and  playfully  pushed  the  basket  off  her  head 
before  she  saw  him.  She  gave  a  wild,  shrill  scream, 
like  a  frightened  animal,  stood  trembling  a  second,  and 
then  sat  down  on  a  fallen  log,  and  began  to  cry. 

"  Come,  come,"  said  George,  "  don't  cry.  Don't  you 
see  I  did  n't  intend  to  startle  you.  I  am  very  sorry," 
T-  penitently.  "  But  you  are  irresistible,  and  when 
out  on  my  walk  through  these  lovely  groves  I  acci 
dentally  saw  you  coming  down  the  path,  all  else  lost 
its  beauty;  but  you  see  I  could  not  admire  you  as 
you  passed  with  that  basket  over  your  head,  so  I  was 
tempted  to  remove  it."  She  did  not  reply  to  this 
apology,  but  George  seated  himself  on  the  other  end  of 
the  log,  and  began  to  gather  a  little  bunch  of  lilies 
that  grew  in  the  shade  beside  it. 

He  looked  handsome  as  an  Apollo  in  the  waning 
light  that  touched  up  his  features  with  a  stately  glory, 
while  his  pale  face  and  his  dark  eyes,  large  and  lumi 
nous,  lost  all  their  old  expression  of  mocking  vanity  and 
selfishness,  and  seemed  sincere  and  noble. 

"Here  are  a  few  lilies  for  you,"  he  said  at  last. 
"  Nothing  is  beautiful  to  me  when  you  are  near,"  offer 
ing  them  to  her. 

She  took  them  petulantly,  and  rose  as  if  to  end  the 
matter,  but  she  caught  sight  of  his  face  turned  toward 


UNSEEN   OBSERVERS.  83- 

her,  so  grave  and  earnest  that  she  relented,  and  stood 
twisting  the  bending  stalk  of  a  young  fir  as  if  she 
would  part  on  more  friendly  terms.  George  was  aware 
of  his  advantage  immediately,  and  left  his  seat  also. 
"  Nita,"  he  said,  "  do  not  treat  me  so.  All  are  strangers 
to  me  about  the  mine,  and  I  need  the  pleasant  friend 
ship  you  could  give.  Is  there  any  harm  in  being  kind 
to  one  another,  I  wonder?  Come  now,  be  even  as 
friendly  as  you  were  to  the  driver  last  night,  and  I 
shall  be  satisfied." 

"  Well,  I  can  do  that  if  you  really  want  to  treat  me 
nice,"  said  the  dark  girl,  smiling.  "  I  'm  willing  to  be 
on  speaking  terms  if  you  ain't  trying  to  make  fun  out 
of  it,  honor  bright.  Seems  to  me  you  're  not  quite  so 
polite  as  you  ought  to  be.  I  'm  sure  you  were  more  free 
than  you  should  have  been  last  night,  and  I  'm  glad  I 
would  n't  let  you  have  my  shawl  for  it,  —  there!  " 

Poor  child!  How  deceived  to  ask  him  to  tell  her 
truthfully  that  he  did  not  want  amusement  in  their 
acquaintance,  when  it  was  the  only  thing  he  sought! 

But  he  was  actually  winning  this  shy  beauty  who 
"never  noticed,"  as  Milcie  had  told  him,  and  he  was 
elated  with  this  little  victory;  for  besides,  he  had  to 
overcome  the  prejudice  which  he  had  already  awakened. 

"  Well,  let 's  forget  all  differences,  anyway,"  replied 
George.  "  Are  you  going  away  soon?  I  heard  you  and 
your  friend  speaking  of  it  last  night,  you  know." 

"  No.  My  father  says  later  on  in  the  summer  will 
be  better  for  me  to  go,  when  it  will  not  be  so  cold  in  the 
higher  country." 

"Good  fortune  for  me,"  observed  the  incorrigible  flat 
terer. 


84  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"  I  must  hurry  along,"  Nita  said,  blushing  and  sud 
denly  remembering  herself.  "  Mother 's  at  home  all 
alone." 

"May  I  go  part  way  with  you?"  said  George, 
meekly. 

"  O  no;  I  could  n't,  surely.  O  no;  don't  ask  me, 
please." 

"  Why  not  ?"  persistently  from  George. 

" Because  I  couldn't  let  you."  Nita  scarcely  knew 
what  to  say.  She  could  not  give  him  a  plain  and  grace 
ful  excuse,  but  became  uneasy,  and  answered  him  so 
excitedly  that  he  could  not  make  up  his  mind  whether 
she  was  waiting  to  be  coaxed  or  really  did  not  want 
his  company.  She  was  nervously  tearing  off  strips  of 
tender  bark  from  the  young  fir  near  her,  and  George 
was  reminded  of  the  honeysuckle  vine  at  Robinson's 
that  had  suffered  on  a  like  occasion,  when  he  could  not 
by  any  possibility  think  she  liked  his  advances.  So  he 
said  only,  "  I  hope  you  will  get  along  safely,  though  I 
would  enjoy  this  sunset  far  more,  facing  it  with  you, 
than  going  homeward  and  turning  my  back  to  all  the 
brightness  of  my  day.  Good  by." 

"Good  by,"  answered  Nita,  feeling  relieved  to  be  rid  of 
his  presence,  yet  going  rather  reluctantly,  and  glancing 
shyly  back  at  him  standing  by  the  vine-covered  log, 
seeming  handsome  and  manly  in  the  soft  radiance  of 
the  western  light. 

When  she  was  out  of  sight  around  a  curve  in  the 
path,  Nellie  parted  the  bushes  of  her  hiding-place  and 
came  out.  "Good  evening,  George,"  she  called.  "You 
and  I  take  our  walks  at  the  same  time,  I  presume.  I 
thought  you  had  a  severe  cold.  It  don't  pay  to  hunt 


UNSEEN  OBSERVERS.  85 

mischief  at   this   hour,   for   it's    getting    chilly,    Sir 
George." 

He  stood  confused,  wondering  if  she  had  just  come. 
"  She  listened,  I  '11  wager,  if  she  arrived  in  time," 
thought  he. 

" '  Oh,  profound  meditation !  how  oft  have  I  — 
quoted  Nellie,  tragically.  u  You  '11  get  a  worse  caress 
from  the  ice-maiden  than  you  have  now  if  you  stand 
there  sunset-gazing.  Come,  let  us  go  home.  Take  my 
wrap,  I  'm  warm  from  walking  and  can  do  without  it," 
she  said,  taking  off  her  soft,  delicate  shawl,  and  shrug 
ging  her  trim  shoulders  as  if  to  keep  away  the  cold. 

aO  no,  thanks;  I  couldn't  think  of  depriving  you. 
I  'm  well  provided  for." 

11  But  you  are  not.  Put  this  around  your  throat," 
Nellie  insisted;  "  and  come  straight  back  to  the  hotel," 
she  further  ordered;  and  taking  his  arm,  piloted  him 
off,  laughing  to  herself  at  her  success,  and  the  doubt 
she  had  raised  in  his  mind. 

Later  in  the  evening  Nellie  sat  in  the  brilliantly 
lighted  parlor  with  George,  whom  she  had  persuaded  to 
remain  up  with  her  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  stage, 
though  he  pleaded  earnestly  the  privilege  to  retire. 
Although  the  hour  was  late,  there  were  many  still 
about,  looking  anxiously  for  their  mail,  the  news,  or 
their  expected  friends. 

Nellie  glanced  at  her  watch.  "  If  they  left  that  place 
called  Robinson's  at  eight  o'clock,  as  we  did,  they  ought 
to  be  here  soon,"  she  said,  to  encourage  the  drowsy 
George  to  keep  awake;  but  it  was  unnecessary,  for  be 
fore  she  had  finished  speaking  there  was  a  commotion 
outside,  the  rattle  and  rumble  of  wheels,  a  chorus  of 
excited  voices,  and  the  stage  had  come. 


86  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

She  sent  George  out  to  see  that  her  friends  were 
shown  into  the  parlor,  where  she  was  waiting,  and  he 
returned  in  a  few  minutes,  followed  by  Mrs.  Willis  and 
Mabel. 

Nellie  flew  to  meet  them  with  extravagant  words  of 
welcome,  and  descriptions  of  her  travel  and  her  lonely 
day.  "  But  Mr.  Dennett  has  been  very  kind  during  all 
of  my  exile,"  she  added  slyly,  ignoring  the  contribu 
tions  George  had  made,  both  involuntarily  or  with  his 
reluctant  consent.  However,  he  knew  Nellie  too  well 
to  expect  anything  else;  and  besides,  amidst  all  the 
noisy  chatter  and  confusion  of  troublesome  packages 
that  Mrs.  Willis  was  constantly  losing  and  finding 
again,  he  was  enjoying  a  most  comfortable  stare  at 
Mabel.  Nellie  was  taking  off  her  wraps,  and  the  two 
girls  were  talking  freely  to  each  other,  while  he,  half- 
forgotten,  compared  the  quiet  grace  and  classic  beauty 
of  Mabel  with  the  lively  and  trim  Nellie.  He  was 
spellbound.  Mabel  was  tired  and  travel-worn  and 
cold,  but  she  was  lovely  still,  —  lovely  in  every  motion, 
in  every  word,  in  every  look.  And  again,  how  poorly 
did  the  uncultured,  bashful  Nita,  with  all  her  wild, 
dashing  beauty  and  impatient  ignorance,  compare  with 
this  high-born  girl,  her  refinement  blended  with  serene 
dignity,  her  light-hearted  spirits  wedded  to  dainty  lit 
tle  feminine  graces  and  modesty  !  She  was  truly  beau 
tiful;  George  thought  he  had  never  before  beheld  one 
so  lovely.  The  glossy  coils  of  her  dark  brown  hair 
were  woven  like  a  crown  upon  her  head,  her  oval 
patrician  face  had  borrowed  the  pearly  crystal  white 
ness  of  the  snow  and  the  delicate  flush  of  the  wild 
mountain  rose;  while  her  eyes,  dark  hazel,  deep,  and 


UNSEEN   OBSERVERS.  87 

lustrous,  were  shadowy  as  twilight  under  the  delicately 
arched  brows  that  relieved  the  pure  whiteness  of  her 
forehead. 

George  Brooklyn  was  one  of  those  weak,  vacillating 
creatures  to  whom  the  last  pretty  face  is  always  the 
most  beautiful.  In  a  measure  he  realized  it  himself, 
although  he  was  so  superficially  bright,  so  adept  at 
making  a  good  appearance  while  performing  an  action 
unworthy  of  dignified  manhood,  that  he  escaped  oftencr 
than  he  deserved  hearing  the  unenviable  appellation 
of  "susceptible"  applied  to  himself.  He  recognized 
the  fact  that  he  had  admired  a  score  or  more  of  pretty 
women  in  his  life,  and  even  imagined  he  loved  a  gen 
erous  few  of  them,  though  he  knew  he  had  been  cured 
more  quickly  than  story-books  relate,  and  sooner  con 
soled  with  another  love  when  unkind  fortune  separated 
him  from  the  first.  However,  he  thought  the  authors 
very  likely  exaggerated  these  things  for  better  effect, 
and  besides,  he  thought  it  particularly  smart  and  cap 
tivating  to  have  a  number  of  such  affairs  to  remember. 
Only  they  who  are  incapable  of  deep  feeling  themselves 
scoff  at  the  misfortunes  that  befall  others  through  this 
cause. 

Such  shallow-minded  creatures  as  these  are  generally 
the  ones  who  imagine  that  they  have  fallen  in  love  at 
"  first  sight."  Although  "  love  "  seems  to  be  rather  an 
extravagant  term  when  used  instead  of  admiration  or 
fascination,  yet  this  is  often  the  only  kind  of  love  of 
which  they  are  capable.  There  is  none  of  the  respect 
and  esteem,  the  tenderness  and  solicitude  in  it,  the 
sweet,  happy  remembrances,  the  delightful  dreaminess 
of  past  scenes,  the  strange,  clinging  spell,  the  fragrant 


88  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

blossoming  of  the  affections,  that  characterize  real  love. 
And  thus  it  happened  that  George  Brooklyn  truly  be 
lieved  that  he  had  become  desperately  in  love  in  less 
than  half  an  hour.  Nellie  at  last  thought  of  intro 
ducing  him,  when  it  came  time  for  her  to  send  for  some 
one  to  show  the  newly  arrived  guests  to  their  rooms,  so 
he  had  no  opportunity  for  his  oily  flattery,  or  to  accom 
modatingly  dance  attendance  to  every  suggestion  of 
their  wants  he  could  discover.  To  strangers  these  ways 
Beerned  very  acceptable  and  delightful,  yet  they  varied 
in  the  degree  of  appreciation  all  the  way  down  to  excit 
ing  sheer  disgust,  and  appearing  consummately  silly  to 
those  who  knew  him  well. 

On  this  occasion  Nellie  mentally  commented  upon 
his  unrelieved  anxiety  to  make  himself  as  conspicu 
ous  as  he  wished  to  Mabel  Willis  by  this  means.  "  How 
different  it  is  from  Edward's  high-bred  and  native  gal 
lantry!"  and  she  tossed  her  head  with  pride  at  the  mere 
thought.  "It  seems  as  if  Edward  performs  all  these 
courteous  and  grateful  kindnesses  as  simply  and  unob 
trusively  as  breathing;  and  that  such  little  interrup 
tions  never  disturb  in  the  least  the  broader  and  nobler 
objects  that  occupy  his  mind.  But  I  presume  George's 
mind  is  essentially  different,  —  and  especially  as  to  oc 
cupations,"  she  concluded,  with  an  unconscious  smile. 

After  they  had  gone  she  paid  attention  to  George, 
since  it  was  worth  her  while  to  give  him  an  idea  or  two. 
It  was  greatly  to  her  own  account  that  he  should  mo 
nopolize  Mabel,  yet  she  did  not  wish  to  appear  too 
solicitous  to  throw  Mabel  in  his  way,  fearing  that  he 
would  tire  if  he  had  an  easy  victory;  and  so  she  put 
him  in  the  background  as  much  as  possible  at  their 
first  meeting. 


UNSEEN  OBSERVERS.  89 

"Heigho,"  she  said  lazily.  "I'm  sleepy,  and  I'm 
sure  you  've  made  a  great  sacrifice,  George,  to  keep  mo- 
company  when  you  are  more  than  half  ill,  anyway. 
It  was  very  kind.  I  '11  repay  you  some  time  in  like 
degree.  But  then,  come  to  think  of  it,  you  should 
consider  a  glimpse  of  a  girl  like  Mabel  Willis  enough 
compensation.  I  should,  I  know,  if  I  were  such  an 
enthusiastic  admirer  of  the  fair  ones  as  you  are."  She 
meant  such  a  soft  Tom  Fool  about  it,  for  Nellie  under 
stood  him  quite  thoroughly;  and  though  unprincipled 
herself  in  many  things,  she  still  could  see  the  ridicu 
lous  folly  of  promiscuous  love-making;  and  though  she 
liked  to  flirt,  both  for  amusement  and  to  obtain  favors, 
she  still  had  one  virtue  in  the  matter,  —  her  own  feel 
ings  were  seldom  touched. 

"  I  have  n't  suggested  reward,"  returned  George. 
"  However,  as  you  say,  I  'm  independent  of  you,  for 
you  did  not  furnish  me  with  my  best  enjoyment, — 
that  of  seeing,  for  about  ten  minutes,  from  the  edify 
ing  background  of  snubdom,  a  very  beautiful  young 
lady." 

Nellie  laughed  two  or  three  long  ripples  of  laughter, 
and  ignoring  his  reference  to  her  treatment,  said,  "  She 
is  almost  too  pretty  a  girl  to  be  backed  up  by  a  solid 
fortune,  and  only  one  aunt  for  a  relative." 

George's  eyes  sparkled.  This  was  better  yet.  To 
such  as  he,  the  gratifying  spice  of  money  was  enough 
to  attract  him  even  away  from  his  beloved  hobby,  — 
that  of  love-making;  but  both  offered  in  one  object 
seemed  like  a  freak  of  fortune  at  least. 

"  I  'd  give  up  half  the  good  luck  to  be  rid  of  that 
scheming  witch  who  runs  things  in  such  an  exasperat- 


90  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

ing  fashion,  with  stone-faced  impudence,  for  the  sake  of 
winning  the  other  half  in  peace,"  thought  George  as  he 
went  to  rest,  listening  to  the  grovelling  clamor  of  his 
selfish  soul  instead  of  the  lyric  music  of  the  pines  toss 
ing  in  the  moaning  wind,  that  told  in  its  unmeasured 
harmony  one  thing,  if  that  alone,  —  the  great  mystery 
and  the  supreme  grandeur  in  the  boundless  universe  of 
nature's  own  unsullied  loveliness. 


91 


CHAPTER    VII. 

A   CITY   GIRL'S  ADVENTURE. 

Nothing  good  bursts  forth  all  at  once.  The  lightning  may  dart 
out  of  a  black  cloud;  but  the  day  sends  his  bright  heralds  before 
him,  to  prepare  the  world  for  his  coming.  —  HARE. 

THE  good  things  of  life  seldom  come  to  us  suddenly. 
The  seeds  dropped  quietly  and  unobserved  into  our 
hearts  make  for  themselves  a  place  amongst  our  other 
joys,  —  they  expand,  they  grow,  they  flourish,  and  then 
they  blossom  with  a  fragrance  that  seems  to  absorb  all 
our  other  thoughts,  and  at  last  change  into  the  very 
crown  and  promise  of  our  being,  and  we  marvel  at  the 
desert  which  we  once  endured.  Alas  for  those  that 
blight!  Alas  for  those  that  find  a  barren  soil! 

Those  things  which  rouse  most  deeply  the  emotions 
of  the  heart  come  not  with  haste  upon  us,  but  by  slow 
gradations  that  we  cannot  see,  by  trifles  that  we  never 
heed.  On  the  threshold  of  life  that  overlooks  that 
broad  and  untried  region  stretching  out  even  to  the 
river  of  death,  we  pause  and  wonder.  It  is  all  beau 
tiful.  Here  is  a  path  that  leads  through  mounds  of 
gold,  to  diadems  of  jewels,  that  gives  a  golden  key  to 
every  traveller,  but  it  leads  —  where?  Not  always  to 
the  heavenly  mountains,  but  often  to  the  blank  desola 
tion  of  the  desert.  Here  is  one  that  winds  amid  the 
flowers  of  love,  and  another  that  passes  through  the 
trees  of  knowledge,  and  yet  again  one  descending  into 
the  deep  valleys  and  dark  canons  that  reveal  the  rnys- 


92  ABOUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

teries  of  natnre.  Which  shall  we  take?  Ah!  it  needs 
a  purpose  sure,  a  heart  sincere,  to  turn  neither  to 
right  nor  left,  to  be  not  allured  by  broad  and  flowery 
ways  which  guide  to  marshes  foul  and  endless,  but  to 
keep  in  the  plain  path  marked  out  by  duty,  which  leads 
not  to  the  city  of  discontent,  to  the  country  of  despair, 
nor  to  the  land  of  care  and  sorrow,  but  to  an  old  age 
loitering  in  that  sweet  Beulah  which  borders  on  the 
fields  of  Paradise.  And  then  those  good  things  we  knew 
not  of  when  we  started  on  life's  way  shall  grow  upon 
us,  giving  a  reward  that  is  far  better  than  that  which 
any  of  the  tempting  roads  we  have  passed  could  have 
bestowed. 

And  thus  it  was  when  Mabel  Willis  opened  her  won 
dering  eyes  upon  the  glories  of  another  day,  the  grand 
and  snowy  hills  and  the  long  sweeps  of  forest  were  a 
delight  to  her,  just  as  the  great  old  ocean  or  the  bloom 
ing,  fertile  valleys  had  been,  and  nothing  more.  Surely, 
this  landscape  which  was  brightening  under  the  break 
ing  light  of  early  dawn  held  more  of  the  old  primeval 
solitude  and  glory  than  anything  she  had  ever  seen  be 
fore,  and  she  was  enraptured  with  its  beauty;  though 
little  did  it  stir  her  heart  to  those  feelings  which  en 
compass  scenes  associated  with  things  we  love,  little 
did  she  dream  that  this  awakening  was  not  alone  to 
the  light  of  a  new  day,  but  also  to  the  illumination  of 
another  path  in  life  for  her,  which  thenceforth  she  would 
tread, — one  among  the  piney  mountains  leading  her 
to  life's  greatest,  sweetest  secret,  so  that  ever  after  she 
would  look  upon  them  as  far  more  dear  and  beautiful. 

The  Royal  Rogina  was  built  upon  a  hillside,  amid 
stately  pine  groves,  and  overlooking  the  rude  little  town 


A   CITY   GIRL'S  ADVENTURE.  93 

nestled  below  it  near  the  foot  of  the  slope;  BO  that  when 
Mabel  cautiously  pulled  aside  the  drapery  of  her  win 
dow  and  looked  out  upon  the  early  day,  the  upper 
world  of  heights  and  cliffs  was  all  before  her,  and  she 
saw  the  east  rosy  with  approaching  light,  the  white 
dews  frosting  the  grassy  surface  of  the  ground,  foHow- 
ing  the  descents  into  the  vales,  rising  again  on  the  steep 
banks  or  creeping  under  gloomy  thickets,  and  a  gentle 
stirring  of  the  morning  air  in  the  tasselled  branches  of 
the  pines.  It  was  but  a  little  after  five,  and  though 
she  was  wearied  with  her  journey,  the  seclusion  of  her 
room  became  unendurable  when  such  untried  loveliness 
remained  without.  She  could  not  sleep  again,  so  she 
clothed  herself  in  a  thick  warm  dress  and  ventured  out 
upon  the  balcony.  The  cold  air  was  invigorating,  and 
the  breath  of  the  woods  floated  to  her  in  fresh  little 
puffs  of  breeze  that  woke  the  roses  on  her  cheeks  and 
the  sparkle  in  her  eyes,  while  the  far-off  line  of  purple 
summits  and  snowy  peaks  that  crowded  to  the  east 
were  set  in  a  blaze  of  gold  and  crimson,  melting  to  a 
pale  rim  of  amber  in  the  distant  reaches  of  the  dim 
horizon,  and  reflecting  itself  from  the  sombre  west  in 
dainty  hues  of  rose  and  pearl  and  violet. 

Below,  the  town  lay  sleeping,  —  a  queer  little  town 
of  rough  new  dwellings  with  yellow  pine  roofs  and 
small  square  windows,  with  its  stores  and  saloons  made 
conspicuous  by  a  long  line  of  gnawed  and  crooked 
hitching-posts,  and  low  cabins  hovering  in  the  out 
skirts  and  clustering  tliick  across  a  stream  from  the 
great  high  mill  which  crowed  supreme  over  the  other 
buildings,  with  its  gilded  weathercock  perched  aloft 
among  the  singing  evergreens  that  waved  above  its 


94  ABOUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 

sharp,  eliiny  roof.  Beyond  the  mill  and  across  the 
roaring  creek  were  huge  dumps  of  red  earth  and  rusty 
white  quartz,  odd  little  buildings  and  long  sheds 
through  the  low  archways  of  which  huge  bands  and 
belts  and  motionless  wheels  were  partially  revealed, 
and  tram-roads  tunnelled  through  high  banks,  where 
half-loaded  cars  stood  idle  upon  the  smooth  straight 
rails  that  shone  as  if  glossed  with  silver  in  the  pale 
dawn.  Not  a  sound  was  heard;  not  a  sign  of  life  save 
here  and  there,  from  rock-built  chimney  or  rusty  stove 
pipe  in  the  valley  below,  a  thick  plume  of  blue  fcmoke, 
edged  with  a  soft  white  bloom,  which  curved  so  slowly 
upward  that  it  seemed  to  lie  motionless  on  the  clear, 
heavy  air,  until  dissolved  in  the  depths  of  pale  sky 
above  the  horizon. 

ult  would  be  safe  to  take  a  walk  in  this  twilight 
calm,"  thought  Mabel;  "  no  one  would  know  it,  since 
I  could  return  before  the  world  awakes." 

She  left  the  balcony  and  looked  into  Aunt  Willis's 
room.  All  was  quiet  there  except  a  low  breathing  pro 
ceeding  from  the  bed  where  a  night-capped  head  was 
exposed  to  sight  by  a  ray  of  light  breaking  through  the 
closed  shutters  and  falling  upon  it.  Mabel  wrote 
hastily  on  a  card,  "  Dear  Aunt  Cynthia,  I  have  gone 
for  a  walk  and  will  be  back  in  a  few  minutes,"  and 
placed  it  inside  the  mirror  frame,  knowing  it  was  sure 
to  be  seen  there;  and  putting  on  her  overshoes,  and  a 
hat  and  cloak,  stole  softly  down  the  broad  stairs.  They 
seemed  to  creak  and  even  shriek  as  she  crept  along  to 
the  wide  door  in  the  hall  below,  and  the  light  that 
struggled  in  through  the  frosted  transom  seemed  to  fall 
upon  her  alone  of  all  the  objects  in  its  path,  leaving 
everything  else  concealed  in  dusky  twilight. 


A   CITY   GIRL'S   ADVENTURE.  95 

But  once  outside  in  the  broad  piazza,  where  the 
honeysuckles,  white  and  creamy  with  slender  flowers, 
dewy  and  wind-kissed  with  the  gifts  of  morning,  threw 
an  incense  of  delicious  fragrance  all  around  her,  and 
the  wild  Madeira  vine  made  a  curtain  of  transparent 
green  to  keep  away  the  breaking  gold  on  the  eastern 
hills,  her  delight  returned,  and  she  fearlessly  descended 
the  steps  and  started  off  through  the  glistening  grass. 

She  passed  a  stable,  the  doors  of  which  were  thrown 
wide  open,  and  she  could  see  within  a  long  row  of 
horses,  where  resounding  hoofs  made  continual  stamp 
ing  on  the  planked  floor,  and  a  curious-looking  hostler 
with  bushy  head  and  an  oilskin  cap  came  out  and 
stared  saucily  as  she  went  by;  while  farther  on  a  stout 
little  fellow  whistled  a  few  stray  bars  of  a  melody  sweet 
as  a  lark's  song,  and  busily  washed  the  muddy  wheels 
of  the  great  red  stages,  with  a  long  white  hose.  He, 
too,  stopped  his  whistling  and  his  work  to  look  at  her, 
putting  his  hands  on  his  sides,  and  gazing  in  blank 
surprise  at  this  pretty  maiden  venturing  out  alone  in 
the  cool  daybreak,  and  even  peeking  around  the  corner 
of  the  stage,  when  she  passed  behind  it,  for  a  better 
look. 

Next,  a  ferocious  black  dog  with  red  eyes  and  gleam 
ing  teeth  set  up  a  wild  series  of  barks,  and  made  des 
perate  efforts  to  break  his  chain,  as  she  passed  an  iso 
lated  cabin  half  hidden  in  a  thicket;  and  a  lean-faced 
individual  with  long,  lank  locks,  in  an  undress  of  faded 
brown  jean,  and  blue  yarn  socks  that  were  wofully 
short,  came  hurriedly  out,  and  with  threats  and  a  whip 
decreed  silence,  telling  the  growling  cur  not  to  terrify 
the  "  young  leddie,"  on  pain  of  a  beating,  and  after  re- 


96  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

ceiving  Mabel's  thanks,  made  a  very  elaborate  bow  and 
bade  her  a  polite  "  good  morning." 

Beyond  this  were  the  forests  of  pine,  where  little 
groves  of  pointed,  aspiring  saplings  were  springing  up 
beneath  the  older  trees,  and  brown  mats  of  fallen 
needles,  collections  of  mouldy,  decaying  cones,  and 
dried  broken  branches,  were  all  overgrown  with  a  lux 
uriance  of  high  grass  and  yellowish,  velvety  mosses. 

She  chose  the  path  that  George  had  taken  the  night 
before,  and  wandered  along,  breathlessly  drinking  in 
the  charmed  beauty  of  the  woodland,  stopping  to 
gather  a  frond  of  silver  brake  or  a  cluster  of  rank, 
wild  maidenhair,  or  to  admire  a  netted  cobweb  be 
spangled  with  a  shower  of  dew  on  some  gray  over 
hanging  rock. 

The  sun  broke  through  the  gateway  of  eastern  peaks 
at  last,  and  threw  a  long  flood  of  sunbeams  across  the 
kindling  forests,  tipping  each  spear-like  tree  with  a 
torch  of  fire. 

Her  way  led  to  the  top  of  a  low  range  of  slopes  that 
were  heavily  clothed  with  pine  and  fir  and  tamarack, 
and  finally  to  a  clearing  where  a  primitive-looking 
house  and  out-buildings  had  been  erected.  The  house 
hold  was  all  astir  with  life,  strutting  gobblers  and 
prating  chickens  having  desperate  times  to  keep  out  of 
the  way  of  the  horned  invaders  of  the  barn-yard,  and 
a  large,  well-built,  pleasant-looking  man  and  an  agile 
young  woman  appeared  to  be  very  busy  among  the 
hungry  throng,  though  taking  time  now  and  then  for  a 
playful  notice  of  one  another. 

Mabel  turned  into  a  side  path  to  avoid  being  seen  by 
them,  and  descended  the  hill  on  the  other  side,  coming 


A   CITY   GIRL'S  ADVENTURE.  97 

suddenly  upon  a  little  unfenced  garden  of  cabbages  and 
pease  and  potatoes,  and  there  her  path  ended.  Turn 
ing  to  go  back,  she  saw  the  young  girl  who  had  been 
BO  occupied  in  the  barn-yard  but  a  few  minutes  be 
fore  coming  down  to  the  little  garden,  along  the  trail 
which  she  was  following  back.  The  girl  stopped, 
shaded  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  looked  for  a  moment, 
and  then  started  along  again  as  if  half  undecided  what 
to  do.  On  drawing  nearer,  Mabel  saw  that  she  was  a 
magnificently  colored  creature,  with  the  deep  hues  of 
the  pomegranate  lighting  up  her  clear,  dusky  skin, 
with  eyes  like  velvety  black  pansies,  and  long,  glossy 
dark  hair;  but  yet  there  was  an  untamed  savage  air 
about  her  that  turned  her  modesty  into  an  uncivilized 
timidity.  Her  features  were  too  soft  and  delicate  for 
an  Indian  girl,  yet  there  was  more  dash  and  sparkle 
and  uncurbed  passion  in  her  face  than  Spanish  beau 
ties  have. 

"  I  must  tell  her  why  I  came  here,  so  she  will  not 
think  it  strange  that  I  am  just  leaving  her  garden," 
thought  Mabel,  mistaking  the  girl's  hesitation. 

"  Will  you  tell  me,"  she  asked  of  Nita,  coming  closer, 
"if  there  is  a  path  that  leads  to  the  hotel  nearer  than 
the  one  which  goes  over  that  hill  beyond  us?  I  came 
out  for  a  walk,  and  turning  into  this  side  path  with  the 
hope  that  it  would  take  me  to  a  shorter  route  home,  I 
find  it  ends  in  a  garden-patch  below  here." 

Nita  looked  at  her  rather  curiously  for  a  moment, 
as  if  doubting  a  walk  at  such  an  extravagantly  early 
hour,  but  answered  very  prettily,  in  a  low,  musical 
voice,  "Yes,  there  is  one  other  trail.  It  runs  just  be 
low,  along  that  canon  where  the  trees  grow  so  thick. 
It  is  shorter,  too.  Shall  I  go  and  show  you?  " 


98  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"  She  is  improving  rapidly  in  manner  on  acquaint 
ance,"  Mabel  concluded,  though  she  noticed  how  ner 
vously  the  dark  girl  twisted  the  folds  of  her  blue  wool 
dress  as  if  to  tear  them.  "  If  you  will  be  BO  kind,  I 
shall  be  very  glad." 

They  walked  along  side  by  side,  the  dainty,  well- 
protected  feet  of  the  one,  and  the  rough,  heavy  shoes 
of  the  other,  mingling  their  tracks  in  trails  of  bright 
green  through  the  dew-frosted  grass;  but  Nita  was 
silent,  so  Mabel  finally  asked,  "  You  find  your  home 
very  beautiful,  do  you  not,  out  here  among  these  lovely 
mountains?" 

"  Yes,  it  is  pretty;  but  nice  views  do  not  satisfy  me, 
—  I  must  have  something  different." 

Ah!  here  was  discontent,  even  in  a  spot  where  nature 
lavished  her  choicest  beauties,  from  a  being  that  seemed 
the  very  outgrowth  of  the  uninvaded  wilderness  of 
hills. 

"  What  would  you  have  different?  What  do  yon  do 
to  amuse  yourself  ?  " 

"Amuse  myself!  Why,  I  am  busy  from  morning 
till  night,  with  our  chickens  and  our  gardens  and  the 
cows,  and  the  work  in-doors;  I  '11  wager  you  never  saw 
the  likes  of  it.  It 's  all  very  well  to  take  nice  walks, 
but  you  can't  always  enjoy  them  when  you  have  to 
hurry  after  the  cows  as  I  do,  or  go  to  the  hotel  with 
eggs  to  sell,  —  with  eggs!" 

Her  last  words  betrayed  so  much  feeling,  such  sup 
pressed  emotion,  that  Mabel  pitied  the  bright  young 
creature  dissatisfied  with  the  grandeur  of  her  beautiful 
surroundings,  and  longing  for  something  else,  when 
this  seemed  her  natural  sphere;  so  she  laid  a  little 


99 

gloved  hand  caressingly  on  Nita's  bare,  shapely  arm, 
and  asked  kindly,  "  What  can  /  do  to  help  you?  " 

Nita  turned  her  great  black  eyes  upon  the  gentle- 
hearted  girl,  and  read  her  tender  meaning  in  a  mo 
ment.  Instinctively  she  knew  that  this  was  not  such 
an  offer  of  friendship  as  George  had  made,  and  it  came 
to  her  with  a  thrill  of  joy  that  ended  in  a  passion  of 
grateful  tears.  She  was  impulsive  and  wilful  in  the 
gratification  of  her  own  feelings.  There  was  no  appeal 
to  her  reason,  no  appeal  to  her  sense  of  duty,  nothing 
but  her  own  impressible,  sensitive  heart  to  guide  her; 
and  though  painfully  bashful  in  her  moments  of  calm, 
there  were  times  when,  forgetful  of  self,  she  could  stand 
and  defy  the  whole  world  in  protection  of  its  interests. 
Mabel  had  chosen  the  only  path  to  Nita's  heart,  when 
she  made  this  inexperienced  little  creature  feel  her 
goodness. 

"O,  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,  what  you  could  do  for 
me,"  Nita  answered;  "but  it's  bitterness  to  my  pride 
to  see  the  world's  favorites  feasted  and  humored  with 
all  its  plenty,  while  I,  who  could  enjoy  and  appreciate 
as  much  as  they,  must  wait  on  them  in  the  lowest  ser 
vice.  I  have  sinned  no  more  against  fortune,  that  she 
should  put  me  out  here  among  the  wilds  to  do  her  ser 
vile  duties,  when  I  hate  it  all, — I  hate  it !  I  love  beau 
tiful  dresses  and  laces  and  jewels,  and  handsome  houses 
too;  and  I  could  fill  a  grand  place,  and  have  a  fair  face 
like  you,  if  I  had  a  chance.  0,  I  could  be  a  queen,  I 
know,"  she  almost  whispered,  speaking  more  to  her 
self  or  the  winds  than  to  Mabel,  in  the  vanity  of  her 
dearest  wish. 

Mabel  knew  that  errvy  and  pride  are  both  hard  mas- 


100  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

ters.  The  one  allures  and  tempts,  the  other  holds  its 
victim  back  by  an  impassable  wall.  Here  was  a  girl 
whose  strange  impulses  had  betrayed  her  into  giving 
confidence  to  a  stranger.  However  free  she  might  be 
now,  the  reaction  when  pride  gave  its  tyrannical  warn 
ing  would  freeze  her  into  marble,  and  Mabel  knew  that 
judicious  treatment  was  the  only  way  to  keep  what 
good-will  she  had  already  won,  or  it  would  change  to 
hatred. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "we  are  all  given  life  to  use  for  a 
purpose,  to  be  a  part  and  sum  of  that  great  whole  which 
is  mighty  in  the  end.  To  be  favored  of  earth's  material 
gifts  is  not  always  to  be  most  happy,  for  sorrow's  sharp 
est  tooth  often  bites  through  armors  of  solid  gold,  and 
the  only  true  wealth  is  the  riches  of  the  heart  that  is  for 
tified  and  guarded  so  deep  the  world's  great  rumble  and 
turmoils  cannot  penetrate  to  harm  it.  Your  lot  is  not 
the  hardest.  You  could  make  it  beautiful,  and  useful 
too,  with  only  a  drop  of  sweetening  contentment.  We 
are  all  sisters,  you  know,  and  should  help  each  other 
over  the  hard  places  that  we  have  to  cross,  each  in  her 
way.  I  can  do  something  for  you,  and  perhaps  you  can 
do  as  much  for  me  in  another  way  some  time.  But  let 
me  begin  and  get  you  a  pretty  dress.  I  can  find  one 
somewhere,  I  'm  sure,  that  you  will  like,  and  that  will 
be  one  little  thing  toward  making  you  happier." 

Nita's  eyes  glowed  with  pleasure,  and  the  melancholy 
look  faded  like  the  mist  before  the  rainbow. 

"O  yes,  from  you  I  would  take  it,  if  it  is  really  true 
that  even  rich  people  need  help  sometimes,  and  I  can 
be  of  use  to  you  in  return.  O,  I  am  so  glad  1  I  love 
beautiful  dresses  I  And  I  have  been  sadly  disap- 


A   CITY   GIRL'S  ADVENTUKHV  J 

pointed.  My  father  once  promised  me  a  silk  if  I 
would  read  the  histories  of  England  and  Ireland,  and 
Moore's  and  Goldsmith's  writings,  and  stand  well  in 
my  class  for  one  whole  term;  I  worked,  oh,  so  hard! 
with  the  thought  of  a  dark  crimson  silk  as  my  reward, 
but  I  had  to  give  it  up,  that  we  might  pay  for  my 
mother's  new  crutches.  She  is  lame." 

Ah!  this  study  for  the  sake  of  her  love  for  pretty 
things  was  the  secret  of  this  dark  girl's  language,  that 
was  so  refined  as  to  be  a  marvel  in  one  who,  though 
naturally  bright  and  quick,  had  seen  so  little  of  the 
outside  world  as  to  be  awkward  and  unpolished  even  in 
spite  of  her  natural  grace. 

They  were  now  in  sight  of  a  few  bright  roofs  of  Lucky 
Streak,  rising  above  the  brow  of  a  neighboring  hill, 
for  the  distance  had  seemed  short  to  both;  so  Nita, 
with  a  face  dimpled  in  smiles,  said  she  would  go  back. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  Mabel  asked,  before  they 
parted. 

"  Nita  Logan." 

"  Mine  is  Mabel  Willis.  I  live  now  at  the  hotel,  and 
shall  have  a  chance  to  see  you  again.  Good  by,  Nita." 

"  Good  by,'"  she  answered,  with  a  glad,  free  ring 
that  told  of  a  heart  full  of  happiness. 

"  How  like  a  child  this  girl  is,  to  be  pleased  with  a 
trifle,"  thought  Mabel,  as  she  resumed  her  way.  "  She 
is  just  one  remove  from  happiness,  which  she  could 
gain  by  only  feeling  satisfied  with  what  she  has.  Her 
best  ambition  is  told  in  a  few  words." 

Little  did  she  know  how  deep  were  the  secrets  in  that 
passionate  heart.  Only  a  whisper  had  been  told  her  of 
its  fanciful  longings,  and  Nita's  next  act  would  have 


AllQUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 


opened  Mabel's  eyes  to  a  truth  that  was  too  deep  even 
for  her;  for  on  her  homeward  way,  Nita  sought  a  cher 
ished  spot  of  old  decaying  logs  and  mossy  rocks,  and 
throwing  herself  recklessly  down  in  the  glittering  dew, 
there  in  the  early  sunshine,  when  nature  told  all  her 
best  and  truest  secrets  to  the  humblest  seeker  for  them, 
she  drew  from  its  hiding-place  that  which  she  kept 
hidden  from  the  eyes  of  all  the  world  save  one,  and 
watched  and  guarded  religiously  through  every  phase 
of  her  monotonous  life.  It  was  a  little  scrap  of  paper 
put  carefully  away  in  the  heart  of  a  hollow  log,  but  it 
was  full  of  meaning.  It  told  how  one  John  Gloucester 
and  one  Nita  Logan,  on  a  day  fully  a  year  before,  had 
been  joined  in  marriage  at  a  little  camp  away  in  the 
inmost  fastnesses  of  the  mountain  mines.  No  one  knew 
of  it  except  the  absent  husband,  who  had  gone  away 
into  another  country  to  earn  the  gold  that  would  make 
her  vain  and  foolish  soul  superlatively  happy. 

Alas,  that  she  should  cast  aside  a  happiness  that 
might  have  opened  into  a  future  grand  and  noble,  for 
the  paltry  benefits  that  gold  can  buy!  Alas,  that  in 
those  hours,  when  one  heart  rises  superior  to  the  hollow 
aims  of  earth,  it  finds  not  a  responsive  soul! 

She  kissed  the  paper  tenderly,  —  this  dark-eyed  girl, 
ruled  by  her  vanities  and  her  passions,  till  her  whole 
self  was  absorbed  in  them,  —  and  went  her  way 
a-dreaming,  heeding  not  her  dew-bedraggled  dress  in 
the  happiness  of  her  new-found  hopes,  nor  the  wild, 
sweet  beauty  of  the  early  day. 

Not  so  Mabel.  The  sunshine  threw  a  maze  of  shin 
ing  words  over  all  the  landscape,  and  she  read  from 
shadowy  bank,  from  flowery  slope,  and  water-stained 


103 

rock-wall,  stories  marvellous  and  quaint;  histories  in 
the  dying  leaf,  the  swelling  bud,  the  foaming  stream; 
tales  in  the  blasted  pine,  the  antique  rock  columns 
breaking  bare  and  glittering  through  the  cleft  and 
rugged  hills;  poems  in  the  swinging  shadows,  in  the 
glad  and  mellow  light. 

"  Who  is  this  coming  through  the  tall  May  grasses, 
with  such  a  happy  face?"  thought  Edward,  who  had 
started  out  for  a  morning  walk;  "it  must  be  Nellie's 
friend,  or  some  other  late  arrival,"  he  concluded  at 
length,  upon  a  closer  observance. 

Down  the  narrow  path  she  came,  watching  intently  a 
linnet  swinging  on  a  bush  twig,  and  scarcely  seeing  him 
until  he  had  stepped  out  beside  the  trail  to  let  her  pass. 
A  glad  surprise  came  into  her  eyes  when  she  caught 
sight  of  him,  —  so  manly,  so  strong  and  handsome, 
glorified  by  the  morning  freshness  and  the  grandeur  of 
the  spot,  —  waiting  with  polite  deference  in  the  high 
wet  grass  upon  her  comfort.  If  his  gallant  act  was 
unexpected,  how  much  more  the  man  himself  in  these 
mountain  wilds.  Though  not  peopled  with  ogres  and 
goblins  and  wild  men  quite,  her  fancy  had  pictured  the 
dwellers  here  as  rough  and  uncouth,  sturdy  and  coarse; 
and  though  good  and  charitable  at  the  core,  if  you  will, 
not  given  to  apt  little  graces  of  manner  or  pleasant 
politeness.  But  she  saw  a  man,  well-formed  and  noble- 
featured,  intelligence  and  culture  imprinted  on  his  face, 
looking  down  upon  her  with  frank  blue  eyes  that  seemed 
to  her  just  the  very  handsomest  she  had  ever  seen. 

He  saw  a  young  girl,  graceful  and  retiring,  passing 
him,  a  quick  blush  deepening  the  roses  on  her  cheek  as 
she  bowed  her  thanks,  and  an  air  of  quiet  elegance  in 


104  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

every  motion.  She  wore  a  dark  blue  dress,  made  very 
simply,  that  seemed  moulded  to  a  perfect  form,  while 
her  wrap  was  folded  carelessly  over  her  arm,  and  a 
spray  of  pearly  manzanita  bells  quivered  in  her  hand. 
A  pretty  picture  she  made,  with  dainty  little  curls  of 
brown,  ruffled  and  rebellious  from  the  morning  breezes, 
clustering  around  her  full  white  forehead,  and  the  fresh 
color  on  her  cheek,  melting  into  her  throat  of  lily  fair 
ness;  but  it  was  one  he  did  not  dare  dwell  upon,  so  he 
went  on  and  put  her  out  of  his  thoughts.  This  lovely 
woman,  whose  fancy  or  caprice  had  led  her  for  a  season 
to  this  place,  was  not  for  him,  who  was  so  far  removed 
from  her  world  and  life,  to  think  upon,  or  scarcely  to 
admire. 

But  Mabel,  whose  free  heart  knew  not  the  restraint 
of  circumstances,  even  turned  shyly  to  watch  the  re 
treating  manly  figure,  .the  sunbeams  glinting  in  golden 
waves  across  his  hair,  and  making  hasty  little  dapples 
on  his  back  as  he  passed  under  the  shadows  and  hur 
ried  away. 

A  path  turned  to  the  right  after  she  had  gone  down 
into  a  hollow,  and  she  was  at  a  loss  which  to  follow, 
since  no  longer  the  gilded  weathercock  of  the  mines 
glittered  above  the  trees;  but  the  sharp  blast  of  a 
whistle  decided  her  way,  and  she  turned  to  the  right, 
whence  the  sound  came. 

Quite  likely  it  was  the  memory  of  those  frank  blue 
eyes  that  haunted  her  thoughts  and  made  the  way  seem 
short,  for  she  walked  along  heedlessly  until  a  weather- 
vane  appeared  again  in  view,  not  the  one  she  had 
seen  at  Lucky  Streak,  perched  up  grand  and  bold,  and 
crowing  fearlessly,  but  a  slender  little  oar  of  gold  sway- 


105 

ing  in  the  wind.  A  few  steps  more  and  she  was  startled 
at  the  sight  that  met  her  gaze.  Nothing  like  the  town 
of  Lucky  Streak  was  anywhere  in  sight,  but  gloomy  old 
buildings,  black  from  age,  with  riven  walls  and  creak 
ing  doors,  represented  the  mill  of  a  long-deserted  mine; 
everything  was  old  and  decaying  and  falling  to  pieces, 
while  scattered  all  around  were  rusty  pumps,  broken 
tramways,  and  battered  cars,  and  mounds  of  earth  over 
which  the  grass  was  beginning  to  grow  and  blossom. 
Yet  something  bright  and  new-looking  attracted  her  at 
tention,  and  there  over  the  wide,  heavy  doors  that  had 
once  borne  a  covering  of  white  paint  she  read  in  gilded 
lettering,  "The  Golden  Deep."  She  smiled  to  think 
how  indiscriminately  the  names  of  mines  were  mingled 
in  these  mining  regions;  the  romantic,  the  quaint,  the 
coarse,  and  the  commonplace  were  nearest  neighbors. 

But  a  sound  from  a  little  gully  below  attracted  her 
attention,  and  she  looked  to  see  half  a  dozen  Chinamen, 
picturesque  in  faded  blue  and  spattered  jean,  and  little 
pointed  willow  hats,  at  work  with  placer  cradles  in  a 
turbid  stream. 

She  shrank  back,  but  one  old  Mongolian,  hideous 
with  moon-shaped  eyes,  yellow  skin,  and  protruding 
teeth,  looked  up  and  asked,  with  cross  impudence, 
"What  you  likee?" 

"Which  the  road  to  Lucky  Streak  mines?"  Mabel 
said,  trembling  with  fear. 

"Quail  Gulch  this  way,  —  Lucky  Streak  you  talkee 
this  way,"  he  said,  with  wild  gesticulation,  but  point 
ing  nowhere,  and  adding  other  words  she  could  not  un 
derstand.  And  at  this  juncture  two  more  Celestials  left 
their  work  and  came  forward  to  assist,  jabbering  loudly, 


106  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

while  Mabel,  terrified,  turned  and  fled,  whither  she 
knew  not,  only  glancing  back  to  see  all  the  Chinamen 
collected  in  a  group,  excitedly  talking,  flourishing  their 
arms  and  shovels  about,  and  looking  in  the  direction 
whither  she  had  gone  as  if  to  pursue  her  through  the 
lonely  mountain  wilds. 


AN   AFTERNOON   AT   LOCUSTVILLE.  107 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

AN    AFTERNOON   AT    LOCUSTVILLE. 
There  are  days  and  days,  —  there  are  kitchens  and  kitchens. 

"I  declare!  I  do  declare!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mills,  at 
whose  house  the  school-mistress  boarded,  to  her  neigh 
bor,  Mrs.  Platt,  who  had  stepped  in  for  an  hour's  call. 
"  You  '11  not  be  surprised  at  what  I  have  to  tell  you, 
because  no  doubt  you  've  seen  them ;  but  /,  for  my  part, 
think  it  an  entirely  new  departure  for  even  Lois  Warren 
to  indulge  in.  Don't  you  think  so?" 

"  Think  what  ?  I  have  n't  seen  anything  unusual, 
that  I  remember." 

"  0,  then  perhaps  you  have  n't  noticed  the  late  pro 
ceedings.  I  thought  every  one  had  seen  her  riding  out 
with  the  new  doctor  in  that  funny  little  cart  of  his. 
It 's  strange  that  he  'd  ask  a  lady  to  go  in  it,  even  if  it 
is  a  country  place.  I  never  saw  one  before.  But  then, 
I  guess  he  is  a  trifle  odd,  just  like  Lois;  though  both 
are  good  as  gold,  to  be  sure,  and  that  covers  myriads 
of  defects,  Mrs.  Platt.  Still,  an  educated  man  and  a 
physician,  just  out  from  the  East,  ought  to  be  proud 
enough,  I  should  think,  to  ride  about  in  a  stylish  kind 
of  turnout,  after  spirited  horses,  and  present  a  dis 
tinguished  appearance.  However,  we  all  knew  the  first 
Dr.  Knapp,  and  the  second  bids  fair  to  be  like  him, 
only  a  hundred  times  worse,  —  in  these  things,  of 
course.  But  what  I  started  to  tell  you  was  not  about 


108  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

the  cart-riding,  —  I  thought  every  one  had  seen  that. 
It's  a  dozen  times  more  strange.  Lois,  —  dear  girl,  I 
would  n't  say  a  word  against  her  for  the  world,  but  we 
all  know  she  has  been  slightly  changed  since  '  that 
affair,'  —  Lois  has  taken  to  mending  the  Doctor's  gloves, 

—  on  such  a  short  acquaintance,  too.     What  do  you 
think  of  that?" 

"  Why,  I  think  it  is  just  like  Lois,  and  not  very 
strange  either;  for  she  is  very  helpful  and  kind  in  her 
way." 

"Yes;  but  such  stacks  of  them,  —  gloves,  you  know. 
It  would  be  nothing  if  it  were  only  one  pair.  The 
other  day  the  Doctor  drove  up  (he  calls  often  on  busi 
ness)  and  lifted  out  a  bundle  from  under  the  cart-seat, 
which  he  dropped,  —  he  has  such  a  hurried,  fussy  way 
with  him  I  wonder  he  does  n't  some  time  drop  himself, 

—  and  the  paper  falling  off,  he  picked  up  half  a  dozen 
pairs  of  those  odd  yellow  gloves  that  he  wears  to  drive 
in.     And  what  do  you  think  Lois  did  ?     She  just  ran 
out  into  the  piazza,  before  the  whole  town,  if  you  please, 
and  said,  '  So  you  did  bring  them,  Dr.  Knapp.'     Just 
think!  the  simple  girl  must  have  coaxed  him  to  bring 
them.    '  I  'in  glad  I  can  restore  them  to  usefulness,'  she 
said.     *  So  the  pink  rosebush  did  not  do  such  serious 
damage,  after  all,  when  it  tore  only  one  glove,  and  here 
are  twelve  to  be  made  whole  by  it.'     And  she  actually 
examined  them  right  out  there  before  anybody  going  by 
who  wanted  to  look  up,  and  pronounced  them  all  next 
to  new  with  slight  defects;   and  then  went  on  at  a  great 
rate  with  quotations  about  waste,  and  such  things,  — 
just  as  she  always  does,  you  know.     Well,  I  was  amused 
with  the  whole  performance,  no  less  at  the  Doctor's  de- 


AN   AFTERNOON   AT   LOCUSTVILLE.  109 

portment  than  at  Lois's  new  scheme,  for  he  seemed  won 
derfully  pleased  over  it,  and  smiled,  and  hardly  knew 
how  to  thank  her.  It 's  new  to  him,  of  course.  He 
does  n't  know  Lois  yet,  and  no  doubt  he  thinks  she  is 
doing  something  unusual  for  him.  Still,  it  is  strange, 
—  don't  you  think  so?" 

"Well,  yes, — that  he  should  bring  great  ' stacks' 
of  them." 

"And  then  again,  you  know  how  opposed  Lois  is  to 
any  kind  of  nonsense  with  young  men.  She  don't  be 
lieve  in  any  trifling,  although  I  must  say  she  has  as 
many  admirers  as  any  girl,  and  a  great  many  would  n't 
have  any  if  they  behaved  as  she  does.  Why,  do  you 
know,  that  young  scamp,  Mr.  Horace  Graham's  eld 
est  son,  actually  said  before  a  whole  group  he  'd  like 
to  got  the  school-ma'am  himself, — in  fun  of  course,  but 
then  I  could  see  he  meant  it  fast  enough.  He  is  young 
yet,  not  quite  twenty-one,  and  she  is  past  twenty-five,  — 
a  nice  couple  they  'd  make;  why,  Lois  would  laugh  for 
an  hour  if  she  heard  of  it.  But  then  young  men  will  be 
fools,  and  we  have  to  let  them  be  such.  The  pity  is, 
that  when  they  get  over  being  fools  they  turn  into 
knaves, —  so  the  first  evil  is  undoubtedly  the  best,  and 
should  be  tolerated  with  patience.  But  as  I  was  going 
to  say,  you  know  just  what  Lois  is  when  the  young  fel 
lows  get  too  sweet;  she  just  lets  them  understand  it  will 
do  no  good.  Well,  I  actually  saw  her  making  a  little 
bunch  of  flowers  into  something  that  looked  pretty 
much  like  a  button-hole  bouquet,  for  it  was  so  much 
smaller  than  those  knots  of  blossoms  she  sends  out  to 
the  hospital.  And  sure  enough  !  When  the  Doctor 
came  she  had  this  little  thing, — a  violet  and  a  tiny 


110  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

bit  of  locust  flower,  I  think  it  was,  —  and  pinned  it 
on  his  coat.  She  said  something  about  a  previous  men 
tion  of  button-hole  bouquets;  it  seems  they  had  been 
talking  it  over,  the  simpletons,  and  I  happened  to  pass 
through  the  hall  at  the  moment  that  she  was  pinning 
it  on,  just  to  see  what  she  would  do;  and  do  you  know, 
she  actually  kept  right  on,  and  told  me  without  looking 
round  at  all  that  she  was  adorning  the  Doctor.  That 
was  like  Lois,  only  she  is  getting  worse  and  worse. 
Don't  you  think  so?" 

Yes,  Mrs.  Platt  did  think  the  story  was  growing  worse 
and  worse;  but  she  was  even  glad,  for  a  bright  thought 
came  to  her  mind.  Maybe  the  Doctor  and  Lois  did 
think  something  of  each  other,  and  she  was  happy  even 
in  the  idea.  But  she  wanted  to  be  sure,  so  she  asked  if 
they  were  noticeably  friendly. 

"  Laws !  I  should  think  what  I 've  just  told  you  would 
prove  it.  He  don't  come  to  see  her  except  on  business, 
but  I  think  these  little  carryings  on.  a  trifle  odd,  at 
least.  Somehow,  they  made  an  impression  on  each 
other  at  the  very  first, — at  least,  Lois  came  home  one 
day  and  laughed  a  good  deal  about  a  gig  that  she  had 
seen,  till  I  told  her  we  would  all  see  it  if  she  giggled 
any  more  about  it.  And  then  she  said:  c  But  there  was 
a  very  nice,  kindly  looking  man  in  it,  —  I  wonder  who 
he  is?  Some  stranger  in  town,  of  course';  but  she 
never  suspected  it  was  the  new  doctor.  Arid  then  he 
singled  her  out  pretty  quick  as  the  best  one  to  do  that 
work  for  his  patients  in  the  hospital." 

"  Yes,  but  Dr.  Knapp  went  to  Lois  at  my  suggestion. 
My  aunt,  Mrs.  Hunman,  who  lives  over  in  Tenayee, 
near  the  hospital,  has  a  granddaughter  who  undertook 


AN  AFTERNOON  AT  LOCUST VILLE.        Ill 

it,  but  she  was  too  mischievous  to  be  of  much  use.  She 
is  a  spoiled  child,  who  always  has  her  own  way,  and 
her  judgment  must  have  been  poor  in  seclecting  the 
reading-matter  that  he  has  to  have;  so  I  guess  he  was 
rather  relieved  when  one  day  she  took  offence  because 
he  would  n't  allow  her  to  whip  his  horse  while  she  and 
a  friend  were  out  driving,  and  then  she  refused  to  per 
form  her  duty.  The  Doctor  afterward  arranged  it  so 
Nettie  could  help  him  a  little  in  the  hospital.  Lois,  I 
think,  is  especially  adapted  for  ministrations  to  the 
sick, — she  is  so  sympathetic." 

"  Yes,  she  is  a  dear  girl  anyway,  nobody  knows  better 
than  I  do  how  nice  she  is  about  the  house.  I  remem 
ber  when  my  Jimmie  had  the  measles,  and  I  was  worn 
out  trying  to  take  care  of  him,  Lois  used  to  come  from 
school,  go  right  into  the  kitchen  with  a  big  apron  on, 
and  when  I  came  down  to  start  dinner,  there  would  be 
the  teakettle  a-steaming,  and  Lois  peeling  potatoes, 
and  flitting  about  so  quietly  that  I  did  n't  know  she 
was  there  at  all.  That  was  much  better  than  coming 
to  see  what  she  could  do  for  Jimmie,  when  of  course  she 
could  n't  do  anything,  because  he  did  n't  want  to  see 
anybody  but  me.  It  was  the  best  kind  of  help.  And 
she  is  always  ready  now  to  give  up  anything  to  assist 
me.  Why,  do  you  know,  I  even  wait  to  consult  her 
about  things  around  the  house,  till  sometimes  I  feel  as 
if  she  is  mistress  of  it  herself,  and  I  have  to  observe  her 
orders.  But  then  I  ought  n't  to  say  that  either,  because 
she  always  tries  to  do  everything  just  exactly  to  please 
me. 

"  Laws!  I  'd  miss  her  if  she  should  marry.  Things 
are  looking  a  bit  dubious  now,  though,  don't  you  think 


112  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

so?  What  with  mending  gloves  and  little  nosegays,  I 
should  say  Lois  is  acting  queer.  But  I  have  n't  told  all 
of  it  either;  there  are  so  many  little  things  that  one  no 
tices  that  one  can't  just  call  to  mind.  If  I  had  supposed 
you  were  going  to  call,  I  'd  have  thought  them  up.  How 
ever,  it  would  n't  do  any  good,  because  if  it 's  a  fact  that 
she  likes  the  new  doctor,  we  '11  see  material  enough  to 
draw  conclusions  from.  She  's  just  the  kind  of  a  girl 
who  could  do  two  thirds  of  the  courting  herself,  with 
out  seeming  to  be  at  all  forward  either.  It 's  because, 
as  Jimmie  says,  she  's  got  so  much  steam  about  her, 
that  she  could  n't  wait  for  things  to  come  round  of 
themselves.  But  then,  dear  girl,  I  would  n't  say  any 
thing  unkind  of  her  for  a  diamond.  I  was  just  specu 
lating,  you  know,  Mrs.  Platt.  It  is  something  to  wonder 
about,  —  don't  you  think  so?" 

Mrs.  Mills  was  an  excellent  illustration  of  that  kind- 
hearted,  appreciative  woman  who  is  thoroughly  truth 
ful,  and  in  the  main  charitable,  yet  who  loves  to  gossip 
so  well  that  she  would  not  hesitate  to  sacrifice  her  best 
friends  for  material.  Mrs.  Mills  meant  well,  surely; 
and  yet  we  all  have  heard  of  a  road  that  leads  to  a  very 
undesirable  place  paved  with  just  such  things  as  good 
intentions.  However,  she  had  talked  to  Mrs.  Platt,  and 
that  good  lady  was  very  discreet.  But  it  set  the  stone 
rolling,  and  even  into  Lois's  path,  to  cause  her  annoy 
ance;  because  Mrs.  Platt  thought  the  evidence  conclu 
sive  that  there  was  something  unusual  in  the  conduct 
she  had  just  heard  about,  and  so  on  her  next  visit  to 
Mrs.  Hunman,  which  she  managed  to  make  soon,  she 
warned  that  well-meaning  old  lady  to  be  considerate, 
and  help  the  thing  along  as  much  as  it  was  in  her 


AN  AFTERNOON  AT  LOCUSTVILLE.  113 

power,  when  they  came  to  her  house  for  dinner,  as  was 
quite  often  the  case  after  the  first  call.  And  quaint 
Mrs.  Hunman  planned  in  her  own  way  for  the  good 
result. 

Quite  likely  it  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  Lois  never 
thought  of  falling  in  love  with  Dr.  Knapp.  If  she 
could  have  known  of  the  conversation  going  on  about 
her,  she  would  have  wondered  to  find  out  how  far  astray 
people  can  go  from  real  facts  when  indulging  conjec 
tures  on  mere  trifles.  She  would  have  smiled,  no  doubt, 
thinking  how  both  she  and  the  Doctor  could  have  en 
lightened  them,  little  dreaming  of  his  real  state  of 
mind. 

Besides,  the  mistake  was  the  more  to  be  wondered  at 
when  it  was  Lois  that  Mrs.  Mills  took  for  the  interested 
party,  while  the  reverse  was  really  the  case;  and  the 
Doctor's  shyness  would  never  have  allowed  him  to 
manifest  his  cherished  sentiment  at  all  publicly,  thus 
leaving  affairs  quite  in  the  dark  so  far  as  anything  with 
"  meaning  "  could  transpire  before  witnesses. 

To  Lois  this  new-found  friend  was  more  than  welcome. 
Her  self-reliant  spirit  sometimes  longed,  in  its  weary 
moments,  for  counsel  and  shelter  such  as  the  Doctor 
gave  her,  although  neither  of  them  were  aware  of  it. 
To  the  very  strongest  and  most  dauntless  women  the 
time  comes  when  they  need  a  protecting  arm.  And 
Lois,  who  was  neither  very  strong  nor  dauntless,  but 
only  cheerful,  ambitious,  and  brave  in  her  way,  found 
such  times  came  often  to  her;  but  she  always  went  on 
alone,  without  a  thought  of  encouragement,  lest  telling 
her  troubles  should  invite  a  rude  hand  to  add  to  her 
discomfort. 


114  AROUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 

So  she  unconsciously  came  to  depend  greatly  on  the 
Doctor,  asked  his  advice,  and  confided  little  matters  to 
him  without  hesitation,  because  he  seemed  to  fill  so 
perfectly,  and  yet  so  unobtrusively,  that  vacant  place 
which  none  of  her  other  friends,  no  matter  how  willing, 
could  occupy. 

If  loquacious  Mrs.  Mills  had  received  her  caller  later 
that  day,  she  would  have  had  quite  an  addition  for  her 
story;  for  while  the  two  ladies  were  busy  talking  in  the 
little  front  parlor,  the  Doctor  called  to  get  Lois  to  make 
a  certain  kind  of  gruel  for  one  of  his  patients.  lie 
found  her  in  the  garden,  —  it  was  after  school,  and  she 
was  gathering  flowers, — and  when  he  had  told  his 
errand,  he  sauntered  about  among  the  evergreens  and 
blooming  bushes,  while  she  went  to  prepare  the  dish. 
Presently  she  put  her  head  out  of  the  kitchen  window 
and  startled  him  with  the  voice  he  was  thinking  of, 
although  he  affected  to  be  very  busily  engaged  in  train 
ing  a  fallen  honeysuckle  vine  which  grew  near  the 
back  of  the  house.  "  Come  in,  Dr.  Knapp,"  it  said,  — • 
"  into  the  kitchen;  this  way,  right  through  the  back  en 
trance,  if  you  will.  Excuse  me  for  inviting  you  in  here, 
but  I  wanted  to  talk  with  you  about  that  Mr.  Knowles 
at  the  hospital,  and  I  thought  you  would  not  mind 
foregoing  your  enjoyment  in  the  garden  for  once.  Sit 
down  here  by  the  door,  Doctor,"  she  said,  as  she  piloted 
him  through  the  latticed  porch  and  placed  a  seat  for 
him. 

Forego  his  pleasure  in  the  garden  !  Who  could 
doubt  that  he  would  not  when  such  pleasure  as  seeing 
Lois  cook  was  offered  him  ?  It  was  warm  and  very 
pleasant  in  that  neat,  homelike  kitchen,  —  the  painted 


AN   AFTERNOON   AT   LOCUSTVILLE.  115 

floor  fairly  shone,  bright  tins  dazzled  him,  the  polished 
sink  looked  even  icy,  it  was  so  cool  with  fresh  green 
things  spread  about  in  pans,  which  might  have  been 
lettuce  and  celery  or  ribbon-grass  and  apple  leaves  for 
all  he  knew,  but  which  had  a  very  inviting  effect  never 
theless.  A  great  stove  with  shiny  copper  pots  on  it 
steamed  away,  and  a  west  window  shaded  from  the  late 
sunlight  by  a  graceful  pear-tree  looked  out  upon  blue 
skies  melting  into  soft  and  shadowy  green  slopes,  upon 
locust  groves  in  the  full  glory  of  the  blooming  season, 
white  with  blossoms  and  dark-clouded  by  bees,  and 
over  at  the  edge  of  this  window-framed  picture,  past 
gothic  cottages,  bits  of  bright  lawn,  long  rows  of  shining 
roofs,  and  a  glittering  church-spire,  something  that  was 
best  of  all  to  the  Doctor,  because  it  was  associated  with 
Lois,  —  the  little  red  school-house,  dull  and  gray-roofed, 
but  notwithstanding  its  lack  of  beauty,  very  attractive 
to  him.  Within,  the  trim  little  school-mistress,  radiant 
in  a  dark  print  dress  and  big  white  apron,  with  glossy 
brown  hair  brushed  back  smoothly,  yet  falling  into 
coquettish  little  wavelets  here  and  there  around  her 
face,  made  gruel  over  the  stove  and  talked  quite  inces 
santly,  only  breaking  off  while  the  daintily  slippered, 
noiseless  feet  tripped  in  and  out  of  the  pantry,  or 
sounded  like  prophetic  little  taps  down  the  long  cellar 
stairway  outside.  And  the  Doctor, — oh,  he  couldn't 
think  about  Knowles,  nor  talk  about  Knowles,  nor 
anything  else  but  the  present  moment;  and  just  sat 
half-dazed,  drinking  in  the  inspiration  of  the  hour, 
that  he  would  not  lose  for  the  slight  good  he  could  do 
to  twenty  Knowleses  in  that  time. 

It  had  been  a  long  while  since  the  Doctor  had  been 


116  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

in  a  kitchen.  There  was  just  a  spice  of  satisfaction  in 
getting  in  there,  after  all,  aside  from  his  other  happi 
ness.  Back  to  an  old  New  England  farm-house  it  car 
ried  him,  to  a  time  when  the  snow  lay  thick  and  white 
upon  the  ground  outside,  and  the  windows  took  on  lit 
tle  cloudy  patches  of  steam  to  mar  their  clearness,  to  a 
big  old  kitchen,  warm,  and  odorous  of  the  good  things 
that  appeared  mysteriously  on  every  hand.  Pies  came 
from  a  glimmering  oven,  and  were  ranged  in  ever-in 
creasing  rows  on  a  long,  clean  dresser;  and  besides, 
there  were  turkeys  brown  and  savory,  light,  sweet 
loaves  turned  over  in  pans  to  cool,  and  gingerbread, 
too,  which  a  little  Melville  and  a  little  Franklyn, 
bright-haired  and  rosy-cheeked  boys,  longed  irresisti 
bly  to  pick,  but  dared  not  for  fear  of  an  offended 
mamma,  who  would  not  allow  them  to  eat  it  hot,  and 
they  were  wofully  unhappy  for  nearly  half  an  hour, 
until  it  cooled,  unless  wilful  little  Melville  satisfied 
his  mouth  at  the  expense  of  his  conscience,  and  con 
siderate  and  obedient  little  Franklyn  shared  in  the  un 
hoped-for  spoils.  It  made  him  shudder  to  think  how 
very  long  ago  that  was,  —  how  far  behind  in  the  un- 
speaking,  never-returning  past  his  boyhood  lay,  how 
changes  had  come  to  that  dear  old  home,  and  its  bird- 
lings  had  flown, —  and  yet  it  still  remained  cherished 
lovingly  in  his  remembrance  through  all  the  drifting 
years,  and  his  mind  ever  recurred  to  it  with  the  same 
dependent  feeling  as  in  his  departed  youth. 

But  here  was  another  kitchen,  far  away  from  the 
first  one  that  haunted  his  memory,  under  another 
sky  that  was  blue  and  soft  and  tender,  in  another 
spring-time  that  was  warm  and  balmy  and  flowery,  in 


AN   AFTERNOON   AT   LOCUSTVILLE.  117 

another  country  he  had  hardly  heard  of,  and  where  he 
had  never  thought  to  journey;  and  here  was  another 
being  who  took  on  the  grace  and  crown  of  womanhood, 
BO  like  that  ideal  loveliness  his  mother  had  worn,  and 
here  was  a  repetition  of  that  quiet,  joyous  spell  he  had 
never  hoped  to  feel  again. 

So,  of  all  the  kitchens  the  Doctor  had  ever  Been, 
this  was  only  the  second  which  seemed  worthy  of  the 
name;  and  of  all  the  lovely  women  who  had  crossed 
his  path,  this  sweet  young  girl  before  him,  unstudied 
yet  graceful,  warm-hearted  yet  sensible,  possessed  that 
power  over  his  life  which  only  his  mother  had  held 
before  her.  Yet  of  course  Lois  was  unlike  his  mother 
in  most  things,— he  appreciated  her  youth  as  com 
pared  with  himself  and  his  almost  ancient  memories, 
— he  felt  all  the  external  differences  between  them;  but 
they  were  alike  in  the  one  thing  essential,  —  each  held 
a  never-to-be-forgotten  charm  for  him. 

How  unconscious  was  Lois  of  all  this  !  Little  do  we 
dream  of  it  when  we  tread  on  the  sacred  borders  of  the 
land  that  parts  a  life  in  twain;  little  do  we  know,  till 
that  last  conclusive  retrospect,  what  careless,  thought 
less  act  of  ours  was  engaging  all  our  mind,  when  a  life's 
issue  was  unfolding,  silently  and  inexorably,  along  our 
very  path, — unheeded  and  unknown.  She  went  on 
cheerfully,  noticing  not  the  Doctor's  abstraction,  talk 
ing  about  Knowles,  what  she  thought  of  him,  how  much 
better  he  was;  and  making  plans  about  the  disposal  of 
her  work  when  she  went  "home,"  now  that  she  had 
fully  decided  to  go  during  her  vacation;  and  finally  fell 
to  discussing  the  good  merits  of  this  form  of  food  or 
that  form,  to  see  if  she  could  arouse  some  interest,  for 


118  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

ehe  observed  that  she  had  to  ]ead  the  conversation  al 
together. 

The  Doctor,  who  at  length  realized  that  he  must 
make  some  effort  to  be  entertaining,  though  he  dreaded 
to  disturb  that  sweet,  long-lost  influence  that  was  over 
him,  instead  of  answering  a  question  that  Lois  asked 
him,  tried  to  introduce  a  new  subject  without  being 
aware  that  it  was  not  time  to  dismiss  the  old  one. 

So  when  Lois  asked,  "  Is  it  better  for  invalids  to  take 
warm  or  cold  milk  with  their  gruel  ?"  he  never  heard  a 
word,  but  said,  "This  is  an  Eden-like  climate,  Miss 
Warren,  the  warm,  soft  air  soothes  as  well  as  invigo 
rates." 

The  effect  was  electric.  Lois  dropped  her  spoon, 
looked  up  and  saw  the  Doctor's  face  a  prodigy  of  ex 
pression,  and  the  situation  was  so  comical  that  she 
could  not  repress  a  laugh.  And  Mrs.  Mills,  coming  into 
kitchen  at  that  moment,  discovered  a  most  surprising 
scene,  that  mystified  and  yet  gratified  her,  although  she 
felt  very  sorry  Mrs.  Platt  had  already  gone,  so  that  she 
could  not  relate  it  immediately.  There  was  an  atmos 
phere  of  constraint  all  around;  the  Doctor  looked  con 
fused  and  blank  and  uncomfortable,  and  there  was  Lois 
just  subsiding  from  her  laugh,  yet  wonder-struck  her 
self,  standing  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  the  meal  slip 
ping  through  her  fingers  and  making  little  trails  and 
miniature  peaks  along  the  floor,  the  fallen  spoon,  and 
the  gruel  boiling  up  at  a  fearful  rate,  as  if  to  add  its 
mite  to  the  dumb  excitement. 

Mrs.  Mills  hurried  through  and  shut  the  door  behind 
her  quite  carefully,  saying  as  she  went  down  cellar, — • 
yet  what  she  went  there  for  was  more  than  she  could  tell, 


AN  AFTERNOON  AT  LOCUST VILLE,        119 

for  she  had  forgotten  her  errand  to  the  kitchen,  she  was 
BO  upset,  — "  I  do  declare!  I  believe  the  Doctor's  going 
daft.  He  sits  there  with  such  an  idiotic  look  on  his 
face  that  I  really  believe  Lois  is  asking  him  already. 
That  looked  very  much  like  the  critical  moment,  I  'm 
sure.  I  wonder  how  they  '11  come  out  of  that  scene  I 
caught  a  glimpse  of." 

But  it  was  for  Mrs.  Mills  herself  to  help  them  out. 
She  turned  quickly  and  started  upstairs,  thinking  it 
best  to  be  nigh  if  the  Doctor  should  need  any  one  of 
"  tact "  to  help  him  along,  and  that  it  was  well  to  be 
within  a  convenient  distance  anyway. 

Not  a  word  had  been  spoken  in  the  kitchen  since 
Mrs.  Mills  passed  through.  Lois  and  the  Doctor  had 
both  nearly  recovered,  being  relieved  by  this  trifling 
circumstance,  and  Lois  was  just  bending  to  pick  up 
the  spoon,  when  a  dull  noise  sounded  outside,  muffled 
and  yet  awful  in  its  subdued  thunder,  and  then  came 
a  scream,  sharp  and  long  and  loud,  that  was  full  of 
agonizing  pain  and  terror. 


120  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 


CHAPTER    IX. 


The  presence  of  a  young  girl  is  like  the  presence  of  a  flower;  the 
one  gives  its  perfume  to  all  that  approach  it,  the  other  her  grace  to 
all  that  surround  her.  —  DESNOYERS. 

MRS.  WILLIS  awoke  and  went  into  Mabel's  room  to 
rouse  her,  but  found  it  empty. 

"  The  imprudent  child  is  up  already,  charmed  with 
these  rough  mountains,  and  enjoying  them  from  some 
window,  I  suppose,"  she  thought,  as  she  went  back  to 
her  own  apartment  and  began  to  dress.  Soon  she 
noticed  the  card  inside  the  mirror  frame,  with  Mabel's 
message  on  it,  and  she  grew  indignant.  "  Out  for  a 
walk  in  a  place  like  this ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  With 
rough  miners  and  tramps  about,  and  dangerous  shafts 
left  uncovered,  —  she  must  be  bereft  of  her  brain  to  do 
it.  Nellie!  Nellie!"  she  called,  running  to  Miss  Min- 
ton's  room  and  rattling  the  door-knob;  "get  up  and 
help  me.  Mabel  has  gone  out,  and  I  am  afraid  she 
will  fall  into  danger." 

"  Yes,"  from  Nellie,  sleepily. 

"  Do  hasten,"  said  the  old  lady,  trembling  with  ex 
citement;  "we  have  overslept,  and  it  is  nearly  eight 
now." 

Dressing  hurriedly,  she  went  downstairs  and  in 
quired  of  a  servant  how  long  ago  a  young  girl  had 
gone  out. 

"  Have  n't  seen  any  one  this  morning,"  he  answered. 


EDWARD'S  HOME.  121 

Further  inquiry  proved  fruitless,  and  anxious  Mrs. 
Willis  flew  back  to  Nellie's  room.  "Come,"  she  said; 
"we  will  have  a  late  breakfast  after  we  come  back; 
but  I  must  find  Mabel;  I  'm  afraid  something  has  hap 
pened  to  her,  for  she  must  have  gone  out  some  time 
ago,  and  she  certainly  would  have  returned  before  this 
unless  unavoidably  delayed."  But  Nellie's  thoughts 
were  more  of  Edward  Dennett  than  of  Mabel,  and  she 
stopped  to  dress  her  hair  artistically,  and  arrange  a 
knot  of  lace  at  her  throat,  lest  she  should  meet  him, 
despite  Mrs.  Willis's  exhortations  to  hurry. 

They  walked  out,  poor  Mrs.  Willis  talking  loud  and 
excitedly,  and  enjoining  secrecy  if  possible  to  Nellie, 
who  scarcely  said  anything.  All  about  the  town  they 
went,  Mrs.  Willis  even  peering  cautiously  into  prospect- 
holes,  in  the  vague  dread  of  seeing  a  mangled  form 
there,  and  calling,  "Mabel!  Mabel! "  softly  as  she  sup 
posed,  but  very  shrilly  in  reality. 

Finally  a  miner  noticed  their  hurried  movements 
and  strange  behavior,  and  impelled  by  curiosity,  asked 
if  he  could  be  of  any  assistance.  But  Mrs.  Willis 
was  quite  eccentric,  and  starting  off  toward  the  hotel, 
answered  that  she  would  tell  him  soon.  In  a  short 
time  she  came  back  more  excited  then  ever,  saying 
that  Mabel  had  not  returned  yet,  and  requesting  the 
waiting  miner  to  aid  in  the  search.  He  began  making 
inquiries,  and  finally  learned  that  the  young  man  who 
cared  for  the  stages  had  seen  her,  but  he  could  not  say 
what  direction  she  took  after  she  passed  Old  Grant's 
cabin  down  in  the  thicket. 

"  But  it  was  rather  early,  and  she  has  had  plenty  of 
time  to  get  a  long  way  from  here,"  said  the  young  man. 


122  AROUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 

"  Are  yon  sure  it  was  no  one  who  lives  in  the  vicinity? 
Did  you  take  a  good  look  at  her?" 

"  Was  n't  likely  to  do  anything  else  in  a  hurry  while 
that  girl  was  going  by.  Ask  Grant,  likely  he  'd  know 
where  she  was  going.  I  saw  him  speaking  with  her 
when  his  dog  got  on  a  tear." 

Yes,  Old  Grant  had  seen  a  "  young  leddie  "  dressed 
in  "blue,  but  "  being  as  he  was  in  rather  questionable 
costume,  he  did  n't  remain  out  long,  and  consequently 
could  n't  say  what  direction  she  took." 

That  was  the  last  information  they  could  get.  The 
hours  wore  along  till  nine  and  ten,  and  though  Mrs. 
Willis  felt  anxious  to  keep  the  matter  as  still  as  pos 
sible,  at  last  she  was  persuaded  to  raise  a  general  alarm, 
and  a  little  party  of  men  from  Lucky  Streak  started  out 
to  search  the  woods.  Long  were  the  hours  of  terrible 
suspense.  Mrs.  Willis  paced  the  floor  of  her  room,  stop 
ping  each  moment  to  look  out  of  the  window  for  the 
absent  one,  calling  her  tender  names,  and  vowing  if 
ever  she  got  her  "treasure"  back,  that  nevermore 
would  her  own  selfish,  arbitrary  rule  deprive  Mabel  of 
the  pleasure  of  a  little  freedom.  Eleven  o'clock,  and 
still  no  tidings,  still  no  slender,  girlish  form  coming  up 
the  red-brown  road  toward  the  hotel,  still  the  dull  flut 
ter  of  excitement  about  it  down  in  the  town  below. 

At  last  the  noon  whistle  sounded  loud  and  sharp, 
echoed  off  among  the  distant  heights,  and  then  the 
noise  of  the  heavy  machinery  grinding  and  buzzing,  the 
ehouts  of  workmen,  and  the  whizzing  of  belts  were 
hushed.  Parties  of  miners  issued  from  numerous  build 
ings,  making  their  way  in  a  steady  stream  to  the  long 
boarding-houses  across  the  creek;  and  at  last  Nellie, 


123 

who  watched  at  the  window,  saw  the  young  manager 
come  out  with  brisk  step  and  walk  hurriedly  toward 
the  hotel.  She  ran  down  to  meet  him  in  the  hall  be 
low,  asking  eagerly  for  any  news  of  her  lost  friend. 

"  I  have  none,"  he  answered.  "  I  came  here  to  see 
if  I  could  render  any  aid  in  the  matter.  You  see  the 
arrival  last  evening  of  my  new  force  of  miners  made  it< 
imperative  for  me  to  attend  very  steadily  to  my  work 
all  the  forenoon,  though  I  assure  you  my  sympathies 
were  with  you  in  your  misfortune;  I  was  almost  power 
less  to  give  it  any  attention,  though  I  would  have  been 
glad  to  do  so  were  it  possible." 

"  0  yes,  I  know,  —  Edward,"  looking  up  with  troubled 
eyes;  "and  yet  I  felt  so  utterly  alone  in  the  care  of 
poor  Mrs.  Willis,  half  crazed  with  anxiety,  that  I  was 
tempted  once  or  twice  to  send  for  you  to  advise  me, 
but  I  hesitated,  fearing  it  would  disturb  you.  Neither 
she  nor  I  can  direct  any  one  what  to  do,  we  are  so 
anxious  and  confused,  and  we  have  had  to  leave  it  all 
to  strangers." 

Edward  passed  his  hand  across  his  forehead  as  if 
thinking  deeply.  "  Most  certainly,"  he  said  aloud,  "  it 
is  a  serious  thing,  and  a  strange  one  as  well."  Then 
another  pause,  as  if  he  was  trying  to  solve  some  ques 
tion,  and  again  he  spoke,  "A  few  Chinamen  at  work 
on  the  stream  that  flows  past  the  Golden  Deep,  our 
neighboring  mine,  had  better  be  watched.  They  are 
very  ugly  toward  every  one  except  their  own  race.  As 
soon  as  I  heard  of  this  matter  I  despatched  a  couple  of 
men  to  the  place  to  investigate.  They  returned  with 
the  report  that,  save  the  absence  of  two,  all  things 
seemed  to  be  moving  on  quietly,  but  they  would  give 


124  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

no  information,  fearing  the  men  had  come  to  secretly 
look  at  their  diggings,  and  hence  would  not  permit 
them  to  remain  there.  I  mention  this  to  you,  thinking 
perhaps  it  would  be  best  for  you  to  know  as  much  as 
that,  in  the  event  it  would  be  necessary  for  you  to  cause 
a  more  complete  investigation;  and  the  hint  might  be 
of  some  consequence  to  prevent  delay  that  would  be 
caused  were  it  left  to  me  while  I  am  so  occupied  with 
work." 

"  Oh!  oh! "  cried  Nellie  in  fear.  "  Just  think  of  fall 
ing  into  the  hands  of  those  terrible  creatures!  Can't 
something  be  done  immediately?" 

"Yes;  I  am  intending  to  go  over  in  that  direction 
myself,  and  will  see  to  this  too,"  and  he  instinctively 
gave  a  glance  toward  the  mill,  as  if  fearing  to  leave  its 
management  for  even  an  hour  in  the  hands  of  another. 

"Oh,  good  !"  Nellie  exclaimed;  "  I  am  greatly  relieved 
that  you  feel  so  much  interest.  You  will  come  and  tell 
us  the  result,  won't  you,  whether  favorable  or  not?  I 
shall  be  in  great  suspense  until  you  return." 

"Certainly,  I  will  come  to  you  the  first,"  replied  Ed 
ward,  as  he  lifted  his  hat  and  started  away. 

Meantime  Mabel  had  been  enduring  one  of  the  hard 
est  experiences  of  her  life.  After  her  fright  at  the 
Chinese  diggings,  she  ran  a  long  way,  looking  back 
quickly  now  and  then  at  the  terrible  Mongolian  that 
followed  her,  who,  wishing  to  frighten  all  intruders 
away  from  the  jealously  guarded  claim,  knew  this 
method  would  prevent  another  call  from  their  late 
visitor.  She  went  over  hills  and  through  hollows  as 
fast  as  her  swift  feet  could  run,  till  completely  ex 
hausted  at  last  she  sank  down  to  the  earth,  her  lungs 


125 

almost  bleeding  for  want  of  breath.  But  her  Chinese 
horror  had  ceased  his  pursuit  when  she  looked  for  him, 
so  with  a  sigh  of  relief  she  remained  for  another  mo 
ment's  rest,  pressing  her  fair  cheek  close  to  the  damp 
brown  earth  for  a  touch  of  its  coolness.  When  she 
rose  to  look  around  her,  nothing  was  visible  that 
looked  familiar  to  her  eyes, — not  a  hill  nor  a  grove 
like  those  around  Lucky  Streak,  and  she  scarcely 
knew  the  direction  whence  she  came.  But  with  a 
desperate  unrest  she  started  out  to  find  her  way  home 
ward  if  she  could.  She  feared  to  venture  anywhere  lest 
she  should  come  upon  another  or  the  same  group  of 
Chinamen;  so  for  hours  she  wandered  cautiously  over 
the  hills  and  through  the  pine  woods  with  scarcely  a 
hope  of  finding  even  a  trail.  The  sun  was  growing 
warm,  and  the  dews  had  long  since  melted  away  into 
the  spongy  grass  roots,  and  a  sense  of  severe  lassitude 
came  creeping  over  her,  compelling  her  to  sit  down  for 
a  rest  on  an  old  log  in  a  little  valley.  "Oh,  how  will 
Aunt  Cynthia  feel  about  this!"  she  sobbed,  yielding  at 
last  to  the  tears  she  had  striven  to  keep  back.  "  There 
is  perhaps  no  hope  of  ever  getting  out  of  this  terrible 
wilderness,  for  I  shall  surely  be  discovered  by  some 
fearful  creature  before  Aunt  Cynthia  can  send  any  one 
to  find  me,"  she  said  aloud,  in  her  distress. 

"  Goodness  I"  said  a  woman's  voice  close  behind  her. 

She  started  and  uttered  a  terrified  cry.  Her  fear  had 
distorted  all  objects  about  her;  tall  stumps  were  changed 
to  priests  in  sombre  robes,  rough  branches  to  hideous 
faces  leering  down  upon  her,  and  tramps  lurked  in  the 
bird-haunted  thickets,  till  at  last  this  spoken  word 
seemed  to  come  from  supernatural  and  evil  sources  to 


126  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

do  her  harm.  But  she  looked  and  saw  a  woman  stand 
ing  and  looking  at  her  in  wonder.  "What  is  the  mat 
ter,  miss?"  said  the  woman  at  last. 

"  I  have  lost  my  way  to  Lucky  Streak,  and  have 
wandered  about  through  the  woods  since  early  morn 
ing  in  the  hope  of  finding  a  path  that  would  lead  me 
right." 

"  Laws  !  That 's  too  bad.  Come  and  I  will  tell  Mrs. 
Dennett,  who  lives  just  over  the  hill  there." 

"But  could  n't  you  direct  me?  "  asked  Mabel,  fearing 
to  be  led  into  more  disagreeable  experiences. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  woman,  "if  you  prefer  it.  But 
you  look  very  tired  and  quite  worn  out.  Mrs.  Dennett 
lives  just  beyond  that  grove.  She  quite  likely  will  do 
something  to  refresh  you,  and  send  some  one  with  you 
to  the  Mines." 

Mabel  yielded,  and  on  reaching  the  top  of  the  hill, 
they  looked  down  into  a  fertile  little  valley  luxuriant 
with  bloom  and  teeming  with  life.  An  old  white  house 
with  a  gable  roof  half  hid  itself  under  a  burden  of  roses, 
—  Baltimores,  Bleeding  Hearts,  Castilian  Beauties,  and 
Cloth-of-Gold  roses  dropped  their  leaves  like  a  shower 
from  the  blossom-freighted  breezes  of  the  Nile. 

In  the  very  precincts  of  this  lovely  home  she  had 
sank,  overpowered  with  a  sense  of  her  solitude  and 
helplessness. 

A  lady  past  the  middle  of  life,  with  a  pleasant,  re 
poseful  countenance,  hair  that  had  once  been  golden 
but  now  divided  its  brightness  with  strands  of  silver, 
brushed  back  smoothly  from  a  fair,  intelligent  brow, 
sat  sewing  in  the  cool,  shaded  porch,  and  looked  up 
with  such  a  welcoming  smile  that  she  won  Mabel's 
heart  at  once. 


127 

"  Mrs.  Dennett,  here  is  a  young  lady  who  has  got 
lost  trying  to  find  her  way  to  Lucky  Streak,"  said  the 
woman. 

"  Lost,"  echoed  Mrs.  Dennett,  "  no  wonder,  —  in  these 
unfrequented  hills.  Sit  down,  please,"  she  said,  offer 
ing  Mabel  a  low  rocker.  "  Did  you  come  from  the 
Mines?" 

''Yes.  I  ventured  out  from  the  hotel  early  this 
morning  for  a  walk,  the  mountains  were  so  beautiful 
here,  but  I  missed  my  way,  and  have  wandered  about 
ever  since  in  the  hope  of  finding  a  road  back.  I  fear 
my  friends  are  greatly  alarmed." 

"  You  have  been  out  since  early  morning!  "  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Dennett,  rising.  "Then  you  must  not  attempt 
to  go  back  until  I  have  given  you  something  to  eat. 
Huldah  will  go  to  Lucky  Streak  with  word  that  you  are 
safe,  and  you  must  remain  here  until  you  are  rested 
enough  to  attempt  to  go  yourself.  Why,  my  poor 
child!"  she  said,  compassionately  bending  over  the 
weeping  girl,  "you  have  suffered,  I  am  sure."  This 
sudden  relief  had  come  so  gratefully  that  Mabel  could 
not  repress  the  tears  that  came  rolling  into  her  great 
innocent  dark  eyes  like  a  rushing  flood. 

Huldah  hurried  off  after  inquiring  the  name  of 
Mabel's  aunt,  and  the  two  were  left  alone  together. 

"  Come  into  the  dining-room,"  said  Mrs.  Dennett, 
"  and  I  will  give  you  some  tea  to  revive  you  until  I  can 
finish  preparing  the  luncheon." 

She  led  the  way  into  a  large  room,  long  and  low. 
where  a  neat  tea-table  was  spread  for  two  as  if  the 
meal  had  been  already  begun.  It  was  a  homelike  room, 
— a  charming  one,  Mabel  thought  from  a  seat  by  a  west 


128  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

window,  where  an  JEolian  harp  made  sweet  music  in 
the  gusty  breeze  that  came  whistling  down  from  the 
pines  on  the  hill,  and  stirred  the  little  curls  on  her 
fevered  forehead  with  a  gentle,  reviving  touch;  a  carpet 
of  soft  crimson  threw  a  pink  reflection  on  the  white 
mouldings  of  the  embellished  walls  and  the  low  ceil 
ing,  the  heavy  folds  of  a  dark  curtain  in  an  alcove  win 
dow  half  hid  a  bank  of  silver-back  ferns  and  fragrant 
hyacinths,  while  over  in  one  end  of  the  great  room, 
which  seemed  used  for  a  library,  stood  two  immense 
book-cases,  showing  through  their  glass  doors  heavy 
vellum-bound  books,  crisp  little  volumes  of  red  morocco 
and  gilt,  ponderous  series  of  histories,  and  treatises  on 
minerals,  and  even  rich  stores  of  romance  and  poetry. 
Near  the  book-cases  was  a  cabinet  of  ores  arranged  in 
glittering  rows  along  the  shelves;  and  maps  and  charts 
and  diagrams  lay  about  on  the  long  library  table,  in 
the  centre  of  which  was  a  huge  antique  lamp  of  lacy 
gold. 

"  I  am  something  of  an  invalid,"  Mrs.  Dennett  ex 
plained,  bringing  in  the  tea  and  a  slice  of  toast.  "And 
I  live  here  with  my  girl  Huldah,  and  my  boy  Jacob 
who  does  the  garden-work,  quite  alone,  although  the 
lumber-mills  are  just  below  on  the  creek,  where  a  little 
settlement  has  opened  with  several  pleasant  homes.  An 
old  mine  called  the  Golden  Deep  once  created  a  sensa 
tion  in  this  vicinity,  and  an  enterprising  village  was 
the  outgrowth  of  its  success;  but  it  failed,  and  the  town 
was  abandoned;  however,  together  with  a  few  old  set 
tlers  and  neighbors,  I  have  clung  to  the  spot,  loth  to 
leave  its  beauty  and  quiet,  until  good  fortune  has  again 
come  to  us,  and  the  new  mines  have  attracted  the  out- 


EDWARD'S  HOME.  129 

stretching  arm  of  civilization  with  their  richness,  while 
the  old  deserted  town  has  sprung  up  again  into  a  rough 
new  one  on  its  suburbs.  We  are  hut  two  miles  from 
Lucky  Streak,  and  our  most  direct  road  to  the  town 
leads  through  the  deserted  ruins  of  the  old  mines,  — 
piles  of  brick,  tumble-down  houses,  and  even  a  leaning 
church,  with  its  little  cemetery  about  it  overgrown  with 
long-leaved,  drooping  willows,  that  touches  the  heart 
with  its  sadness  and  desolation.  Did  you  come  through 
the  old  town?" 

"  I  scarcely  think  so.  A  crumbling  mill  called  the 
Golden  Deep  was  on  my  way,  but  I  became  so  fright 
ened  at  the  Chinese  workmen  there  that  I  ran  for  a 
long  distance  into  the  woods,  although  when  I  at  first 
took  the  wrong  path,  a  whistle  from  that  direction  mis 
guided  me." 

"  It  must  have  been  the  whistle  from  the  Quail  Gulch 
works  that  have  lately  renewed  operations.  Our  mines 
are  quite  numerous  on  this  belt  through  the  mountains, 
though  out  beyond  the  Golden  Deep,  where  you  proba 
bly  were  lost,  there  is  no  habitation,  nor  scarcely  a  sign 
of  life  for  miles,  except,  over  on  the  edge  of  the  forest, 
the  little  home  of  a  man  named  Logan,  who  works  in 
the  Lucky  Streak  claim." 

Mrs.  Dennett  had  seated  herself  near  Mabel  during 
this  conversation,  talking  very  smoothly  and  pleasantly 
to  interest  her,  yet  avoiding  questions  with  true  womanly 
feeling.  Finally  she  leaned  back  and  looked  at  Mabel 
for  a  moment  as  she  sat  pale  and  weary  in  the  great 
crimson-cushioned  chair  by  the  window.  "  I  like  to 
see  you  there,"  she  said,  half  dreamily,  as  if  even  think 
ing  to  herself.  '*  It  reminds  me  of  a  little  friend  I  had 


130  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

once,  who  used  to  come  here  and  stay  for  long  visits 
with  me.  She  would  sit  in  that  chair  where  you  are 
now,  and  sew  and  talk  with  Hie,  and  read  sometimes, 
till  I  came  to  love  her  as  a  daughter.  She  was  a  sweet- 
minded  girl,  and  very  ambitious,  so  I  took  great  pains 
to  teach  her.  Many  an  afternoon,  in  a  spring  like  this, 
we  have  sat  here  and  read,  and  planned  together  for 
her  future,  until  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  it  ought  to  last 
always,  and  my  loss  was  almost  inconsolable  when  she 
went  away.  She  was  with  me  so  much  from  her  early 
childhood,  that  many  things  and  places  in  this  old 
house  are  inseparably  associated  with  her.  She  was  by 
nature  so  refined  and  reflective  that  I  had  an  apt  pupil, 
though  the  family  who  adopted  her  were  altogether  an 
other  order  of  beings  in  the  matter  of  good  taste  and  nat 
ural  fine  fibre,  but  she  was  so  uncommonly  affectionate 
that  she  loved  them  all  dearly,  and  had  enough  to  spare 
for  me  besides.  I  have  not  seen  her  for  years;  she  has 
been  away  teaching,  and  has  never  returned  since  she 
left.  Somehow  when  I  saw  you  coming  up  the  garden 
with  Huldah  I  was  so  vividly  reminded  of  her,  that  I 
could  scarcely  believe  it  was  not  she,  although  she  was 
much  smaller  than  you  in  stature.  It  has  been  a  long 
time  since  that  old  chair  has  been  occupied  by  a  young 
girl,  and  it  recalls  my  days  with  Lois.  The  chair  has 
fallen  into  my  exclusive  use,  although  it  was  originally 
intended  for  my  son,  who  is  seldom  at  home  since  the 
mines  opened.  Have  you  visited  the  mines  yet?  " 
"  Not  yet.  I  only  arrived  last  evening." 
"Oh!  then  you  have  something  in  store  for  the  fu 
ture.  Although  I  have  only  been  down  in  the  mines 
twice  myself,  I  count  it  one  of  the  greatest  treats  in  the 


131 

way  of  a  novel  arid  interesting  experience,  and  could  re 
peat  the  visit  half  a  dozen  times  without  being  wearied. 
The  workings  have  not  reached  a  great  depth  yet. 
Later  on  I  suppose  it  will  be  possible  to  go  a  long  way 
under  the  earth.  Now  I  must  attend  to  my  luncheon," 
she  said,  leaving  her  seat  and  going  toward  the  table. 
"It  is  so  seldom  that  I  have  to  do  without  Huldah 
that  I  had  almost  forgotten  it.  My  son  is  expected  to 
come  to-day  for  the  noon  meal.  He  seldom  finds  time, 
though  it  is  only  a  short  ride  on  horseback,  for  his 
work  keeps  him  so  busy  that  he  cannot  leave  it";  and 
then  she  went  out  of  the  room,  and  left  Mabel  alone  to 
marvel  at  this  refined  and  elegant  lady,  possessing  all 
the  culture  and  tact  of  one  who  mingled  every  day  with 
educated  associates,  surrounded  by  modest  little  touches 
of  splendor  in  her  dwelling,  living  among  books  and  the 
beauties  of  art,  having  no  other  thoughts  than  of  the 
lovely  things  in  life  around  her,  and  hiding  herself  in 
these  isolated  fastnesses  of  the  mountains. 

And  then  she  fell  to  thinking  pleasantly  of  Mrs. 
Dennett's  blue  eyes.  They  were  beautiful  in  them 
selves,  to  begin  with,  but  they  had,  besides,  a  soft  light, 
a  lustrous  frankness,  that  spoke  of  a  mind  beneath 
free  and  lovely  as  were  these, — its  clear  outlets;  she 
had  a  charming  way  of  looking  thoughtfully  down 
ward,  and  as  some  sudden  thought  flashed  through 
her  mind,  of  glancing  up  again  so  brightly  that  the 
change  in  her  face  seemed  like  the  sunrise  over  a 
dusky  scene.  Mabel  wondered  how  many  more  in 
these  surprising  hills  would  have  such  eyes,  for  this 
was  the  second  pair  she  had  fallen  in  love  with  on  a 
day  that  had  so  far  proved  very  lonely. 


132  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

Beware,  Mabel !  Dream  not  of  eyes,  for  Cupid's  ar 
rows  often  speed  with  burning  victories  from  even  soft 
and  tender  eyes  of  blue. 

But  a  brisk  step  along  the  hall  roused  her  from  her 
fancies,  and  in  a  moment  a  stranger  was  in  the  room, 
—  no,  not  a  stranger  either,  for  had  she  not  seen  him 
waiting  gallantly  in  the  wet  grass  for  her  this  very 
morning?  And  here  he  was  again,  standing  before  her 
and  looking  down  upon  her,  worn  and  ruffled  and  pale 
in  the  crimson  chair,  with  those  same  earnest  blue 
eyes,  —  eyes  with  the  soft  light  in  them  like  his 
mother's,  but  darker  and  brighter  and  clearer,  with  the 
fires  of  youth  smouldering  in  their  shining  depths. 
No  wronder,  then,  that  a  heart  fluttered,  and  long,  dark 
lashes  swept  a  fair,  round  cheek  under  the  eyes  that 
held  such  a  magic  charm,  for  he  looked  quite  steadily 
for  a  moment  without  a  word;  and  just  as  he  was  about 
to  speak,  his  mother  came  in,  and  greeted  him  with  a 
warm,  hearty  kiss.  "  Edward,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "see 
what  I  have  found," — half  playfully.  "This  young 
girl  has  lost  her  way." 

"  And  I  have  found  her,  too,  for  which  I  am  very 
thankful.  She  has  some  very  anxious  friends  who 
await  the  earliest  news,  and  half  the  town  — " 

"  Edward,"  said  Mrs.  Dennett,  warningly,  "  you  must 
not  say  anything  exciting,  for  see  how  pale  and  ex 
hausted  she  is  from  her  fright." 

But  Mrs.  Dennett  should  not  have  made  the  mistake 
of  calling  attention  to  the  color  of  any  cheeks  whatso 
ever,  when  anybody  else  with  such  magical  eyes  was 
around,  for  Mabel's  pale  cheeks  had  already  lighted 
up  with  the  beauty  of  a  brilliant  sea-shell,  and  only 


EDWARD'S  HOME.  133 

took  on  a  deeper,  lovelier  hue  at  this  reference  to 
them. 

They  both  saw  it,  and  said  no  more,  Edward  remark 
ing  that  since  it  had  been  agreed  to  fire  a  gun  if  Miss 
Willis  should  be  found,  he  would  go  out  and  discharge 
a  rifle  which  he  had  brought  with  him  for  that  pur 
pose. 

Mabel  followed  him  out  into  the  porch  with  eager 
questions  about  her  aunt,  and  if  she  could  not  imme 
diately  return  to  the  Mines,  while  he  assured  her  that 
his  signal  would  be  sufficient  to  satisfy  them  till  she 
could  comfortably  go,  and  then  went  out  with  the  gun 
over  his  shoulder,  fired  twice  in  rapid  succession, 
loaded  and  fired  again  and  again,  till  the  surrounding 
forests  echoed  deep  and  hollow  with  long,  rolling  rever 
berations  that  seemed  heralds  of  an  approaching  glad 
ness.  Mabel  watched  him  from  the  porch  with  the 
interest  of  a  child,  as  the  swift  spurts  of  fire  left  the 
gun,  and  the  loud  report  burst  out  with  startling  sound. 

Mrs.  Dennett  saw  her  watching  him  from  the  vine- 
wreathed  door,  and  a  thrill  of  pride  came  to  her  warm 
mother's  heart  that  was  not  too  narrow  to  open  for  even 
the  stranger  also. 

"  I  almost  love  that  sweet  girl  already,"  she  thought, 
fondly.  "  She  is  not  like  Lois,  either;  not  so  lively  and 
full  of  energy,  but  more  gentle  and  confiding,  with  a 
very  lovely  face.  Ah  me!  why  was  I  not  blessed  with 
a  daughter  too !  " 

At  a  bright  little  tea-table  that  day,  where  lunch 
was  spread  for  three,  one  heart  —  and  not  the  heart  of 
youth  and  hopefulness,  but  one  from  which  the  fervent 
desires  of  life  had  faded  —  felt  something  like  the 


134  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

prophecy  of  a  blissful  future  time  that  was  awakened 
by  this  little  gathering.  How  happy  she  would  be 
when  three  should  sit  at  this  cheerful  board  and  call  it, 
with  tender,  hopeful  devotion,  our  dear  home;  when  a 
daughter's  thoughtful  face  would  beam  in  response  to 
the  love  in  her  own;  when  faithful  ties  of  affection 
should  entwine  themselves  about  her  new-found  loved 
one,  and  her  longing  heart  would  at  last  find  the  treas 
ure  it  had  ever  missed!  She  liked  to  think  of  it,  and 
know  that  only  they  three  were  there  to  share  the 
suggestive  little  picture;  and  oh,  how  she  did  wish 
Edward  would  think  of  it  too!  But  she  marked  the 
reserve  in  his  face,  the  quiet  reverence  that  betrayed 
not  one  ardent  hope,  and  she  knew  that  her  thoughts 
had  not  been  his. 

At  the  door  when  they  parted,  and  Mabel  extended 
her  hand  with  an  air  of  affectionate  gratitude,  Mrs.  Den 
nett  could  not  resist  giving  her  a  warm,  loving  kiss,  and 
saying  earnestly,  "  You  will  come  to  see  me  again  some 
time,  will  you  not?  "  And  Mabel  returned  her  sign  of 
friendship  heartily,  and  promised  to  come  with  even 
eager  readiness,  so  that  each  felt  that  she  had  won  an 
other  friend. 

And  then  followed  for  Mabel  a  ride  that  was  full  of 
little  pleasantries  and  beauties,  of  penitent  regrets  and 
anxious  wishes,  but  through  it  all  a  sense  of  protection 
from  her  strong,  manly  friend  that  was  very  pleasant  to 
remember. 

She  rode  his  horse,  while  he  walked  on  beside  her, 
talking  of  the  mines  and  the  mountains,  and  finally  the 
old  camp  with  its  decaying  ruins  and  reminiscences  of 
its  palmy  days  in  the  fifties;  and  at  last  the  view  of  the 


135 

welcome  town  with  its  noisy  mill,  its  rough  homes,  and 
its  great  hotel  sunning  itself  majestically  from  a  hill 
side,  opened  out  before  them. 

Nellie  Minton,  who  had  detained  Huldah  that  she 
might  have  assistance  in  sending  for  Mabel,  caught 
sight  of  them  coming  up  the  drive  in  front  of  the  hotel. 
"Well,"  she  said,  emphatically,  "that's  a  high  note! 
My  innocent  friend  is  as  full  of  arts  and  schemes  as 
even  —  even  I  myself,"  with  a  satisfied  shrug  and  a 
meaning  smile. 


136  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 


CHAPTER   X. 

SUPERINTENDENT    SEVENOAKES    OF    THE    LUCKY    STREAK. 

Though  they  know  that  the  flatterer  knows  the  falsehood  of  his 
own  flatteries,  yet  they  love  the  impostor,  and  with  both  arms  hug 
the  abuse.  —  SOUTH. 

MR.  SEVENOAKES  sat  in  his  little  office,  tilted  back 
in  a  high-armed  chair,  with  the  Mineralogical  Report 
under  his  nose,  which  just  at  that  moment  walled  the 
whole  of  his  world  into  a  very  narrow  horizon.  How 
ever,  he  liked  it  and  felt  quite  satisfied.  He  was  not 
averse  to  having  a  world  of  which  he  was  the  centre 
and  the  motive  power.  So  he  swung  his  polished  boots 
up  on  the  polished  stove,  and  with  a  smile  breaking  out 
irresistibly  and  unconsciously  all  over  his  face,  he  read 
it  again, — a  delicious  little  paragraph  interlarded  quite 
unsparingly  with  references  to  "  Supt.  Sevenoakes  of 
the  Lucky  Streak,"  to  his  "  able  management,"  his 
"  enormously  increased  force  of  miners,"  and  the 
"steady  flow  of  wealth  from  those  fabulously  rich 
mines." 

He  was  a  sleek  little  fellow,  with  a  sleek  little  tongue 
and  a  sleek  little  mind.  He  was  not  young.  That 
small,  round,  bullet  head  of  his  was  crowned  with  a 
growth  of  very  glossy  dark  hair,  sprinkled  even  gener 
ously  with  glinting  flecks  of  silver,  and  his  well-trimmed 
mustache  yielded  its  tawny  brownness  to  here  and  there 
a  lighter  thread;  yet  his  clean-shaven  face  was  fair  and 


SUPERINTENDENT   SEVENOAKES.  137 

full,  and  his  keen,  bright  eye  had  a  sparkle  that  did  not 
by  any  means  betoken  age.  He  was  immaculate  in  his 
dress;  a  fine  suit  of  black  fitted  without  a  wrinkle  his 
dapper  little  form,  helped  nevertheless  by  the  skill  of 
the  tailor,  and  his  finely  engraved,  massive  cuff-buttons 
shone  without  a  flaw  on  his  spotless  linen.  There  was 
something  charmingly  fresh  about  his  dress,  something 
soothingly  breezy  in  his  manner.  And  yet  everything 
was  on  so  small  a  scale  that  he  made  one  feel  as  if  he 
might  have  been  rather  a  fine-appearing  specimen  of 
mankind  if  there  had  only  been  enough  of  him.  He 
had  a  voice  that  was  light,  but  pleasant  and  smooth  in 
tone,  and  all  his  motions  were  quick  and  easy,  yet  not 
hurried,  thus  preserving  a  certain  degree  of  dignity 
that  was  very  becoming,  and  still  did  not  deprive  him 
of  his  sleek-tongued  sociability  or  agreeableness.  He 
was  like  a  shuttle, — he  slipped  around  very  smoothly 
and  easily,  until  the  limit  of  his  free  movement  was 
reached;  then  he  was  immovable  as  the  cold,  unfeeling 
steel  when  it  reaches  the  end  of  its  race, — immovable 
except  to  go  back  over  its  accustomed  track. 

But  something  about  his  clear  gray  eyes  damaged  his 
genial  and  conciliatory  expression  by  a  shade.  It  was 
not  their  steely  color,  nor  the  unusual  amount  of  pearly 
white,  that  made  them  slightly  noticeable.  It  was  a 
cold  hardness  in  their  metallic  stare  that  made  them 
rather  like  lustreless  buttons,  —  absorbing  all  the  light 
within  their  reach,  and  letting  out  no  ray  of  the  lumi 
nous  soul  within. 

His  office,  too,  was  on  a  small  scale.  It  was  an  ele 
gant  little  place,  with  a  brightly  dyed  carpet  and  a 
varnished  desk.  No  scratch  or  mar  impaired  the  gloss 


138  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

of  its  costly  cabinets,  no  trace  of  dust  or  tarnish  rested 
on  his  burnished  inkstands  or  his  polished  brass  clock. 
This  same  little  clock  was  something  like  its  little 
owner.  It  was  small  and  bright,  with  a  quick,  pleasant 
tick  and  a  tinkling  little  stroke,  with  a  regularity  sur 
prising  in  so  small  and  dainty  a  machine,  and  with  a 
pretence  at  richness  that  showed  rather  a  cheap,  super 
ficial  brilliancy  than  solid  worth.  The  windows  of  the 
office  were  small  and  of  the  clearest  crystal,  shaded  by 
pale-green  paper  curtains  with  a  golden  border,  that 
shut  out  the  broad  view  of  the  mines  and  the  mill  be 
low,  and  the  long  sweep  of  wooded  hills  and  mountains 
stretching  far  away  to  the  western  horizon. 

The  only  thing  of  massive  proportions  in  the  room 
was  the  great  iron  safe,  which  bore  a  crest  of  polished 
brass  in  the  shape  of  a  flying  phoenix  which  reached 
nearly  to  the  ceiling.  Its  close-shut  doors  looked  even 
rusty  in  the  midst  of  all  this  glistening  newness;  yet 
its  brassy  knobs  were  bright  enough,  as  if  a  constant 
use  had  worn  away  their  misty  marks  of  age. 

Outside,  the  office  was  rather  a  neat,  pretentious 
building,  painted  up  to  a  high  degree  of  stylishness, 
with  a  coat  of  olive-green  and  deep  cardinal  trimmings, 
while  over  the  door  stood  out  the  bold,  black  letters: 
"  Superintendent's  Office." 

On  this  particular  morning,  when  the  worthy  little 
Sevenoakes  opened  his  mail  of  the  previous  evening, 
and  struck  the  highly  colored  article  about  the  Lucky 
Streak,  he  plunged  into  one  of  his  pleasantest  moods, 
and  sat  with  his  little  turned-up  nose  tilted  skyward 
so  uncommonly  far  that  it  almost  pointed  over  the 
back  of  his  head,  a  bland  smile  disclosing  his  full, 
even  set  of  very  white  teeth. 


SUPERINTENDENT    SEVENOAKES.  139 

His  solitude  was  disturbed  after  a  time  by  a  quick 
step  along  the  porch,  and  the  opening  of  the  door. 

u  Good  morning,  Mr.  Dennett,"  said  the  sleek  little 
man  airly,  pushing  a  chair  toward  the  visitor  with  his 
foot.  "  Nice  morning;  not  too  cold.  Work  booming?  " 

"  Work  is  going  on  steadily,"  replied  the  other,  tak 
ing  the  offered  seat. 

"  Anything  I  can  do  for  you?  "  inquired  Mr.  Seven- 
oakes,  pleasantly. 

"  Not  much.  I  just  stepped  in  to  tell  you  that  I  can 
dispense  with  Logan's  efforts  as  assayer  this  week. 
Our  new  man  is  sufficiently  recovered  from  his  illness 
to  go  on  to  work,  and  will  be  in  shortly  for  some  little 
agreement  he  thinks  necessary  before  beginning." 

"  0,  very  well.     You  are  relieved,  I  have  no  doubt." 

"  Very  much.  There  is  considerable  loss  in  any 
careless  handling  of  ores." 

"Just  so.  Keep  up  the  steam,  Dennett;  don't  let 
them  lose  their  hold  on  the  present  rich  pull,"  directed 
Mr.  Sevenoakes.  "0,  by  the  way,  let  me  show  you 
something  good,"  said  he,  growing  confidential  as  the 
young  manager  turned  toward  the  door.  "What  do 
you  think  of  that?  "  presenting  his  Mineralogical  Re 
port,  and  pointing  out  the  article  that  had  put  his 
spirits  into  such  excellent  trim. 

Edward  resumed  his  seat,  and  read  the  paragraph 
with  interest,  while  Mr.  Sevenoakes  watched  anxiously 
for  his  first  words. 

"That  is  excellent  praise,"  said  the  young  man 
warmly,  handing  back  the  paper,  and  with  his  honest 
blue  eyes  meeting  the  searching  glances  of  the  steel- 
gray  pair. 


140  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"  Is  n't  that  good,  now?  That  will  assist  business  by 
Bending  plenty  of  help  here,  and  we  can  work  more 
cheaply,  if  nothing  else,  —  more  independently,  too," 
with  a  sly,  quick  twinkle  of  his  eye.  "  Somebody  did 
us  a  good  turn,"  he  added,  suggestively,  after  a  pause, 
reading  critically  the  fair,  earnest  face  of  the  young 
man  before  him. 

"Yes,"  Edward  replied  with  a  short  laugh,  knowing 
that  Mr.  Sevenoakcs  appreciated  fully  the  mention  of 
himself.  "  We  are  not  quite  forgotten  by  the  civilized 
world,  up  here  in  the  Mines.  Some  one  remembered  a 
little  more  than  that  we  are  here." 

"  0,  bless  you,  yes;  of  course  not  forgotten.  But  there 
are  so  few  who  are  willing  to  give  us  our  due.  They  are 
jealous,  sir, — jealous,"  with  a  satisfied  chuckle.  "Our 
good  luck  does  ii't  suit  everybody,  by  any  means." 

The  little  shuttle  had  run  its  length,  and  could  now 
no  longer  move  about  easily.  He  had  satisfied  himself 
that  Edward  on  his  late  visit  to  the  city  had  not  given 
this  favorable  report  of  "  Supt.  Sevenoakes,"  and  that 
was  all  he  wanted  to  know;  so  now  the  sooner  that 
young  man  went  about  his  business  the  better,  —  which 
the  young  man  did  immediately,  without  waiting  to 
find  it  out. 

In  the  course  of  half  an  hour  Mr.  Sevenoakes  had 
another  visitor,  Mr.  George  Brooklyn.  This  young 
man's  entrance  was  somewhat  different  from  his  first 
caller's,  rather  slower,  and  seemingly  lacking  in  pur 
pose. 

The  little  man  was  busily  engaged,  so  the  effect  of 
the  flattery  in  his  choice  paragraph  had  somewhat 
worn  off,  and  he  was  slightly  less  agreeable;  but  he 


SUPERINTENDENT  SEVENOAKES.         141 

received  Mr.  Brooklyn's  credentials  and  letters  of  in 
troduction  politely,  and  sat  in  silence  for  a  few  min 
utes  while  he  examined  them,  the  young  man  regarding 
the  proceeding  with  stoical  indifference,  as  if  deter 
mined  to  exact  his  price  at  any  cost.  Finally,  the  vis 
itor  espied  the  Report,  and  picked  it  up  to  glance  over 
its  contents  while  waiting.  Becoming  interested  in  the 
account  of  the  Lucky  Streak's  success,  he  made  a  re 
mark  about  the  paper,  as  Mr.  Sevenoakes  looked  up 
and  with  some  commonplace  about  the  weather  pre 
pared  to  get  out  his  writing  materials.  "  I  did  n't  ex 
pect  to  see  this  paper  here,"  said  G-eorge;  "it  has  but  a 
small  circulation  in  this  part  of  the  mining  country. 
The  proprietors  are  rather  too  particular  about  the  re 
liability  of  their  reports,  and  seldom  print  much  to  in 
terest  their  distant  readers,  for  that  reason.  I  know 
something  about  the  inside  workings  of  this  journal 
myself." 

Mr.  Sevenoakes  was  all  interest  at  once.  "  Do  you, 
indeed?"  he  replied,  giving  his  chair  a  nearer  hitch. 
"Are  you  a  correspondent  to  its  columns  ?" 

"  Not  exactly,"  replied  George.  He  detested  ques 
tioning,  and  always  strove  to  evade  it.  "  Sometimes 
when  in  the  city,  if  I  happen  to  pick  up  some  good  in 
formation, — vouched  for,  —  I  send  it  around,  and  they 
are  glad  to  get  it;  I  seldom  do  that  sort  of  thing  when 
I  'm  engaged  in  business  myself,  —  I  have  not  the  time 
to  bother,  generally." 

"  Ho,  ho ! "  exclaimed  the  little  Sevenoakes.  "  But 
that 's  a  remarkably  good  power  to  have.  You  some 
times  give  reports  from  mines  which  you  have  never 
seen,  I  presume." 


142  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

George  saw  through  his  weakness  at  once,  —  that  he 
was  likely  to  want  to  find  out  about  that  report  of  the 
Lucky  Streak,  and  he  was  ready  with  his  answer. 

"Yes;  that  is  generally  the  case  when  my  informa 
tion  is  direct."  Then  he  added,  for  better  effect,  "  Likely 
enough  there  will  be  several  articles  coming  along  soon 
for  which  I  furnished  the  substance  before  I  left  the 
city.  They  usually  fix  up  several  pretty  good  ones  out 
of  a  long  talk  on  the  different  mines." 

u  Is  this  one  of  yours?"  asked  the  superintendent, 
pointing  to  the  article  in  the  Report. 

George  took  the  paper  as  if  he  had  not  seen  the  ar 
ticle  before,  and  replied  slowly,  u  I  could  n't  exactly 
say.  I  don't  always  recognize  my  own  stuff.  Quite 
likely  it  is,  though;  we  talked  of  the  Lucky  Streak." 
He  knew  very  well  that  in  his  short  talk  with  an  at 
tache  of  the  Report  he  had  not  furnished  any  items  in 
praise  of  Mr.  Sevenoakes,  but  had  merely  incidentally 
mentioned  the  name  of  his  mine.  He  had  not  even 
taken  pains  to  inquire  very  much  about  the  mine  itself 
of  Edward  Dennett  while  in  the  city,  much  less  the 
presiding  worthy's  name,  but  he  was  perfectly  willing 
to  take  the  credit  of  having  bestowed  all  this  praise 
which  pleased  Mr.  Sevenoakes  so  exceedingly. 

And  the  little  man  was  satisfied  about  it  now. 
"  This  is  rather  a  fair  kind  of  a  young  man  to  have 
around, — one  who  takes  an  interest  from  the  first,"  he 
thought,  as  he  prepared  to  write  out  their  agreement. 

"  Mr.  Dennett,  who  called  in  a  moment  this  morn 
ing,  mentioned  that  you  wished  to  make  some  stipula 
tion  or  other  before  entering  into  our  regular  contract," 
he  said  at  last,  resolving  to  arrange  things  as  pleasantly 


SUPERINTENDENT   SEVENOAKES.  143 

as  possible  for  an  employee  who  showed  such  a  good 
spirit. 

"  Yes,"  replied  George.  "  It  is  this,  — which  I  must 
insist  upon,  —  I  think  I  understand  my  work  suffi 
ciently  well  to  get  along  without  making  any  serious 
blunders,  and  I  must  stipulate  to  have  entire  control 
of  my  own  department.  Are  these  terms  inconsistent 
with  your  regulations  ?" 

"  O,  certainly  not,  if  you  desire  it.  Certainly  not," 
and  Mr.  Sevenoakes  went  about  drawing  up  the  agree 
ment  with  self-congratulations  that  he  had  got  off  so 
easily.  When  he  had  finished,  he  passed  it  over  with 
a  pleasant  remark,  and  reached  for  his  glossy  beaver, 
that  he  might  walk  over  to  the  mill  with  his  new  em 
ployee.  As  George  arose,  Mr.  Sevenoakes  noticed  a 
certain  fine  grace  about  him,  and  an  expression  of 
quick  appreciation  in  his  face.  He  was  a  good-looking 
young  man,  and  one  capable  of  being  rather  compan 
ionable,  Mr.  Sevenoakes  thought,  so  he  offered  a  cigar, 
and  the  two  strolled  off  talking  quite  freely  together. 
When  they  parted,  George's  mental  verdict  was  that  this 
little  Mr.  Sevenoakes  would  be  a  man  worth  his  while 
to  cultivate;  and  Mr.  Sevenoakes's  verdict  was  that 
George  would  be  excellent  company  sometimes,  besides 
being  useful  in  matters  outside  of  his  regular  line  of 
duty,  —  and  both  were  pleased. 


144  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

IN   THE    GLOAMING. 

When  evening  shadows  tinge  the  sky- 
How  sweet  the  balm  which  home  can  yield; 

The  charm  of  woman's  love-lit  eye 
Makes  strong  the  arm  that  is  her  shield. 

Selected. 

To  Edward  Dennett,  those  prosperous  days  at  Lucky 
Streak  brought  rare  good  fortune  in  his  worldly  affairs, 
but  he  was  still  impatient  for  the  fruition  of  his  most 
dearly  cherished  hopes.  Reared  from  childhood  among 
the  majestic  mountains,  which  marked  the  springing 
of  his  boyish  aspirations,  which  stood  by  solemnly  and 
relentlessly  and  saw  them  wither  and  decay,  which 
preached  sermons  to  him  of  patience  and  renewed 
strength  from  their  strong,  everlasting  hearts  of  gold, 
the  time  seemed  like  a  great  unsparing  scythe,  that  had 
gleaned  many  a  promising  flower  and  left  but  few  to 
blossom. 

Among  his  earliest  recollections  was  that  of  the  little 
country  school  at  the  old  town,  and  the  remembrance 
always  brought  back  thoughts  of  a  score  of  little  bare 
foot  boys  who  ranged  themselves  in  rows  of  all  sizes 
along  the  blackboard  and  roused  the  slumbering  clouds 
of  chalky  dust;  of  the  master  thundering  out  his  rules 
with  deep,  impatient  tones;  of  disgraced  culprits  when 
the  loud-voiced  "snapper"  popped  off  under  some  in 
nocent  iron-shod  heel;  of  recess  time,  when  the  little 


IN   THE   GLOAMING.  145 

girls  in  calico  aprons,  and  the  little  boys  in  gingham 
jumpers,  made  fearless  merriment  with  their  sleds  up 
and  down  the  grassy  hillsides;  and  of  the  well-remem 
bered  pathway  home  from  school  along  the  borders 
of  a  vine-embellished  stream.  Ah!  surely,  those  were 
old,  old  times,  when  the  southern  mines  were  in  their 
glory,  and  the  pioneers  were  in  their  prime.  Full 
many  a  pick  that  glistened  in  the  ledges  then  had 
rusted  back  to  earth;  full  many  a  hand  that  guided  its 
unerring  stroke  now  mouldered  in  the  blooming  sods. 
Yet  the  survivors  of  those  days  looked  back  through  the 
long  aisles  of  the  past  to  their  hopeful  youth,  and  saw 
its  visions  rise  before  them  stained  by  a  deeper  glory 
for  their  distance.  Memories  they  had  of  cities  that 
flourished  with  a  star-wreathed  future,  which  trembled 
and  sank  in  the  crashing  years  that  followed;  those 
wild  hills  had  known  the  tramp  of  many  feet,  had 
echoed  many  a  shout  with  their  serene  and  voiceless 
summits  from  tongues  that  nevermore  would  sing  the 
old  camp-songs,  or  tell  the  stories  of  the  past  around  the 
hearth  of  home.  From  the  wild  canons  of  the  Stanis 
laus,  from  the  rock-walled  barriers  of  the  swift  Tuol- 
umne,  from  many  a  creek  half  hidden  in  its  stony 
channels,  from  the  glittering  quartz  ledge  on  the  moun 
tain-side,  rose  up  the  relics  of  their  coming,  to  touch  the 
heart  with  a  shadow  of  its  sadness.  On  many  a  pine- 
covered  hill,  deep  filled  with  fallen  needles  and  the 
crumbling  earth,  old  prospect-holes  told  histories  of  the 
eager  hearts  that  once  throbbed  there;  on  many  a  river 
bank  the  mouldering  flume  and  the  broken  water-wheel 
still  kept  the  stains  of  their  turbid  tides  to  attest  their 
by-gone  use.  Far  from  the  haunts  of  camp  and  town, 


146  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP* 

deep  in  the  tree-grown  centres  of  the  hills,  where  the 
still  wild  ness  broke  on  the  spirit  in  whispers  of  the  old 
primeval  solitude,  there  stood  the  falling  cabin  with  its 
rock-built  chimney  crumbling  to  the  earth,  which  once 
had  served  to  shelter  man,  in  the  mad  pursuit  of  golden 
phantoms,  where  man  had  never  seemed  to  tread. 

Those  were  palmy  clays  in  this  fevcr^heated  country 
when  the  miner,  strong  and  brown,  glorious  in  his  mud- 
besprinkled  garb  and  his  wide  slouch  hat,  with  his 
bare  arm  dripping,  fresh  from  the  red-soiled  bosom  of 
the  mine,  stood  king  over  all  these  endless  streams  that 
bore  his  tribute  under  their  shining  flood,  over  all  these 
gold-emblazoned  roads  that  poured  their  dust  into  his 
long,  deep  sack  of  treasure.  Life  then  went  in  by  a  ring 
ing,  reckless  shout  of  jubilee,  in  a  maddening  drunken 
ness  of  desperate  hope.  From  the  tribune  of  the  rock 
heap,  by  the  sceptre  of  the  spade,  went  forth  the  man 
dates  of  the  impatient  kings;  down  from  their  dusty 
palaces  of  stone  and  earth,  out  from  the  regal  courts  by 
the  pillared  blazes  of  their  reddening  fires,swept  the  swift 
penalties  of  broken  laws.  And  yet  in  all  this  turmoil 
from  their  swift-winged  justice,  under  all  this  quench 
less  thirst  for  gain,  deep  in  the  strong  foundations  of 
the  heart  slumbered  the  seeds  of  peace  and  order.  All 
honor  to  the  pioneer,  he  of  the  strong  and  iron  sinew,  he 
of  the  true  and  dauntless  heart,  who  faced  the  dangers 
of  the  wild  Far  West,  who  in  those  useless  pits  that 
scar  the  face  of  our  fair  land  planted  the  rootlets  of  a 
mighty  state,  who  stood  by  manfully  and  watched  them 
flourish,  who  told  the  praises  of  the  proud  tree  with  a 
dewy  eye,  and  who  to-day,  as  his  reward,  sees  its  golden 
fruit  borne  afar  on  the  seas  of  distant  lands  that  bow 
in  homage  to  its  glory. 


IN   THE    GLOAMING.  147 

Even  Edward  well  remembered  the  day  in  the  sub 
sidence  of  the  mining  flush,  when  the  gloomy  report 
went  about  the  old  town  of  the  close  of  the  Golden 
Deep;  well  did  he  recollect  that  night  when  the 
furnace  fires  went  out  for  the  last  time,  when  the  sun 
went  down  after  a  lingering,  sad  caress  from  its  troop 
of  reddening  sunbeams,  on  the  little  doomed  camp 
high  up  in  the  heart  of  the  lonesome  hills,  and  the 
men  went  home  with  regretful  looks  toward  the  broad 
doors  that  would  not  swing  open  to  admit  them  on 
the  morrow.  And  after  that  the  old  town,  was  slowly 
deserted,  year  by  year  going  to  destruction  and  decay. 
The  winter  rains  blew  through  the  widening  crevices 
and  stained  the  white  walls  of  many  a  cosey  home; 
the  school-boys  pelted  with  their  showers  of  stones  the 
dusty  window  panes,  until  they  changed  to  black  and 
gaping  holes;  while  from  all  around,  from  the  still,  cold, 
snowy  summits,  from  the  dark  mystery  of  the  woods, 
from  the  soft  bluencss  of  the  lower  hills,  crept  on  the 
old-time  quiet,  and  the  strange,  sweet  wildness,  to  make 
this  spot  a  part  of  nature's  unmolested  provinces  again. 

Those  were  dark  times  for  the  few  little  homes  that 
still  struggled  on  in  the  abandoned  hills.  Edward  re 
membered  his  own  in  those  days,  how  he,  in  his  long 
summer  vacations,  seated  on  a  high  team  behind  his 
eight  bony  horses,  had  to  haul  shakes  from  the  lumber- 
mills  long  journeys  over  the  rough,  dusty  roads  to  the 
mining  camps.  After  his  father  died  he  was  left  alone 
to  care  for  his  mother,  and  many  a  hard  struggle  he 
endured,  on  the  very  threshold  of  dawning  manhood. 
Hopes  that  budded,  fast  blighted  in  the  blossom.  Pov 
erty  held  up  her  withered  finger  and  closed  the  road 
ways  that  his  hands  had  hewed. 


148  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

But  at  last  there  came  a  day  when  the  Lucky  Streak 
was  found,  and  then  the  miners  came  thronging  back 
to  the  green  hillsides  with  their  tents,  and  finally  the 
old  familiar  whistle  blew  its  shrill  blast  through  the 
long-silent  gorges,  and  prosperity  dwelt  with  them  once 
again.  It  was  only  then  that  fortune  took  his  hand 
with  a  kindly  clasp  and  led  him  upward. 

He  had  now  been  manager  of  the  mines  for  some 
time,  for  his  quick  perceptions  and  his  sound  judgment 
had  won  for  him  a  place  among  those  of  rich  experi 
ence.  Yet  the  troubles  and  perplexities  that  annoyed 
him,  the  constant  subjection  of  his  strong  will  to  the 
little  indignities  of  his  work,  fretted  his  proud  spirit, 
and  made  him  strive  the  harder  to  bring  the  time  when 
he  could  throw  off  those  hated  shackles. 

One  late  afternoon  when  work  was  done  he  rode  out 
to  his  mother's  for  a  restful  hour  among  his  books  and 
the  associations  of  his  childhood.  He  had  need  of  such 
renewal,  for  on  this  evening  when  the  steady  drive  of 
cares  were  over,  life  seemed  a  very  dull  and  aimless 
thing  to  him.  "  What  am  I  working  for?  "  he  thought. 
"  Why  this  constant  struggle  for  such  poor  rewards?" 

Men  have  their  dreams  of  love  as  well  as  women, 
though  in  rarer  glimpses,  with  the  vivid  colors  half 
shut  out  by  the  strong  framing  of  the  outer  world.  But 
now,  when  life's  gloom  seemed  to  hang  coldly  over  him, 
a  picture  rose  before  his  inner  vision  of  a  refuge  from  all 
the  besetting  troubles  of  his  way,  a  home  that  would  be 
a  haven  of  love,  a  place  where  his  over-burdened  heart 
could  right  itself  for  all  its  struggles  with  the  storms  of 
life.  Grant  him  but  this  recompense  for  its  bufferings, 
and  he  was  satisfied.  The  warm  rays  of  his  glowing 


IN   THE   GLOAMING.  149 

hearth-stone,  the  thrill  of  its  waiting  love,  could  even 
make  the  hardest,  darkest  duty  one  of  light  and  pleas 
ure.  His  mother  had  always  given  him  a  mother's 
consolation  for  his  trials;  yet  little  did  she  know  it  is 
woman's  highest  mission  to  give  that  spiritual  support 
and  strength  to  him  who  fights  life's  battles  so  bravely 
for  her  sake.  To  her  the  strength  of  man  was  self-sus 
taining;  he  had  no  need  of  encouragement  or  inspira 
tion  when  it  was  his  chief  delight  to  exercise  that 
strength.  Little  did  she  know  it  is  in  home's  safe 
hiding-place  he  gains  his  best  and  noblest  ambition 
and  powers  of  resistance. 

"  Come  in,  my  son,  and  sit  in  your  old  place,"  she 
said,  as  he  kissed  her  at  the  door.  "I  am  glad  you 
have  come,  for  I  am  very  lonesome  here  to-night." 

He  wished  that  she  had  met  him  with  a  bit  of  joyous 
news,  or  with  some  pleasant  association  to  cheer  his  own 
tired  heart.  But  as  of  old,  he  had  to  be  the  comforter, 
and  not  the  comforted,  though  his  stout  spirit  longed 
more  than  ever  before,  with  a  dull  bitterness,  for  the 
balmy  soothings  of  a  home. 

The  day  had  been  one  of  April's  choicest,  warmest 
days,  so  that  as  he  sat  down  in  the  crimson  chair  by 
'  the  western  window  where  Mabel  had  sat,  the  breeze 
from  the  swaying  vines  blew  freshly  in  through  the 
singing  harp,  and  brought  him  whispers  and  change 
ful  melodies  of  its  endless  journeyings. 

"  How  are  things  here  at  home  with  you,  mother?  " 
he  said  with  an  effort  toward  cheerfulness,  and  hoping 
for  a  stray  beam  of  comfort. 

"  O,  just  the  same  as  ever.  I  have  been  so  very  lone 
some  to-day  that  I  am  happy  in  your  company.  How 
is  your  work?" 


150  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"  O,  it  is  discouraging  at  times,"  he  replied.  "  I  have 
felt  more  than  ever  disheartened  to-day.  Ambition  is 
forsaking  me,  I  guess,  mother." 

"  Such  words  from  you!  "  said  Mrs.  Dennett.  "  Is  it 
becoming  for  a  strong  man  with  health  and  good  pros 
pects  to  talk  of  discouragements?  Just  think  of  those 
who  labor  on  amid  the  crushing  misfortunes  of  ill 
health  and  persecution.  Why,  you  should  be  happy 
and  ambitious  every  day  of  your  life." 

He  could  not  tell  her  that  strong  men  had  need  of 
other  things  besides  health  and  an  open  path  to  make 
them  perfect  in  their  strength;  so  he  said  no  more,  but 
closed  his  weary  heart  with  its  fruitless  longings. 

As  he  went  back  to  the  hotel  the  twilight  deepened 
on  his  pathway,  and  enclosed  the  dying  landscape 
with  a  soft  and  restful  beauty  that  was  welcome  to  his 
tired  heart,  and  opened  all  its  founts  of  love  and  ten 
derness.  No  wonder,  then,  that  when  he  arrived  at  the 
hotel  and  saw  Nellie  Minton  sitting  dreamily  there  on 
the  deserted  veranda  in  the  dusk,  with  a  book  lying 
idly  beside  her,  while  she  seemed  indulging  in  gentle, 
girlish  fancies,  he  was  tempted  to  seat  himself  by  her 
side,  and  enjoy  with  her  the  sweet  night  air  and  the 
inspiration  of  the  slumbering  hour.  She  was  very 
pretty  in  that  soft  light,  with  her  mourning  dress  add 
ing  a  shade  of  sadness  to  her  fair  face.  Her  eyes  were 
full  of  a  liquid  darkness  that  also  lurked  with  fitful 
shadowings  in  her  hair,  and  even  her  voice  borrowed  a 
musical  cadence  from  the  enchanting  melodies  of  the 
twilight  winds.  His  heart  reproached  him  for  his  for 
mer  indifference  to  her.  "  She  is  only  a  girl  with  a 
heart  full  of  gentle  charity  and  girlish  wishes,"  he 


IN  THE   GLOAMING.  151 

thought,  as  his  idea  of  her  frivolity  and  thoughtless 
ness  melted  in  this  new  image  of  more  lovely  inno 
cence.  That  little  suggestion  of  sly  art  when  she  had 
offered  her  friendship  to  him  on  their  journey  in  the 
stage  was  all  forgotten,  and  he  saw  only  a  womanly  de 
pendence  on  his  manly  protection.  He  now  felt  almost 
ashamed  that  he  had  not  received  it  with  a  more  cor 
dial  welcome.  ';  Let  us  take  a  walk  in  the  twilight, 
Nellie,"  he  said,  almost  fearing  she  would  go  in  and 
leave  him  with  his  lonely  musings.  She  brought  a 
soft  white  shawl  for  him  to  wrap  about  her,  and  to 
gether  they  strolled  down  by  the  mill,  through  the 
odorous  pine  groves,  and  across  the  green,  bright  slopes 
beyond. 

"  I  have  not  seen  much  of  you,  Edward,"  she  said 
to  him  as  they  climbed  the  flower-lined  path.  "  You 
are  kept  very  busy,  I  know.  Don't  you  grow  tired  of 
the  grinding  worriments  of  business  sometimes?  " 

Why  did  she  say  that  to  him  then?  She  knew  not 
what  a  chord  she  had  touched,  how  his  heart  was  even 
aching  for  one  word  of  sympathy  in  its  strivings;  but 
she  knew  that  his  answer  had  a  warmth  and  ring  it 
had  always  lacked,  which  thrilled  her  heart  with 
strange  new  hope,  —  a  hope  that  he  might  care  a  little 
for  her  after  all;  for  he  said,  "  Only  they  who  are  out 
in  the  full  heat  of  the  daily  battles  with  the  world 
know  just  how  tiresome  and  profitless  they  seem  at 
times.  Nellie,  if  it  were  not  for  hours  like  these,  when 
nature  binds  up  the  wounds  of  the  day,  and  gives  the 
mind  a  strength  and  peace  in  its  restful  loveliness,  life 
would  not  be  worth  the  living." 


152  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

He  looked  down  at  her  as  she  leaned  upon  his  arm 
with  a  confiding,  clinging  touch,  and  bending  over  her 
to  adjust  her  shawl  that  had  fallen  aside,  there  seemed 
wafted  to  him  something  of  her  delicacy  and  weakness 
which  he  had  never  felt  before.  She  appeared  so  help 
less  compared  to  himself,  so  fragile  to  fight  the  battles  of 
life!  In  return  for  a  strong  arm's  generous  protection, 
would  she  not  give  some  of  that  true  affection  which  he 
could  not  but  hope  dwelt  in  the  hearts  of  all  women? 

This  slight  yielding  to  the  charm  and  poetry  of  the 
hour  stilled  the  unrest,  and  brought  a  healing  to  the 
weariness  of  his  breast. 

u  In  this  feverish  age,  how  many  overburdened  with 
its  cares  would  not  find  even  paradise  in  wandering  on 
forever  through  these  purple  shadows,  and  in  this  fresh, 
delightful  air,"  he  said,  taking  off  his  hat  to  let  the 
cool  perfumes  of  the  breezes  blow  on  his  forehead  and 
in  his  hair. 

And  Nellie  answered,  "  How  many  would  not  love  it, 
even  if  they  had  no  overburdening  cares  and  battles  to 
make  them  long  for  its  repose?  How  many  would  not 
choose  it  among  the  best  of  joys,  if  they  could  find  the 
happiness  it  brings  to  me?  " 

When  he  left  her  at  the  door  something  dewy 
sparkled  in  her  eye,  which  moved  him  strangely  with 
its  seeming  tenderness.  He  clasped  her  hand  in  fare 
well  more  cordially  than  usual,  and  said  kindly,  with 
his  handsome  eyes  looking  steadily  down  into  hers, 
"We  have  had  a  pleasant  walk,  have  we  not,  Nellie? 
Let  me  thank  you  for  the  pleasure  you  have  given  me." 

But  he  forgot  it  when  his  soft  pillow  invited  him  to 


IN  THE   GLOAMING.  153 

the  grateful  oblivion  of  sleep;  while  Nellie  sat  for  hours 
by  her  window,  heeding  not  the  fresh  scents  from  the 
woods,  nor  the  starry  sky  above  her  with  its  pulsing 
splendors,  but  hearing  only  those  parting  words  sing 
ing  through  the  pines,  and  breathing  in  tuneful  har 
monies  in  the  swift,  free  winds. 


154  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

CHAPTER    XII. 

SUMMER   SCHEMES. 

I  hear  their  tones  In  converse  sweet, 
Like  singing  winds  in  summer  bowers; 

They  speak  of  scenes  and  friends  loved  well 
In  by-gone  times  and  pleasant  hours. 

Selected. 

IT  was  afternoon  at  the  Royal  Regina.  A  dull 
lethargy  rested  over  the  place,  and  a  monotonous 
silence,  broken  only  by  a  shutting  door  or  a  footstep 
through  the  hall,  making  a  jarring  contrast  to  the  dis 
tant  roar  of  the  mill  and  the  whispering  pines  without. 
In  a  pretty  little  sitting-room  upstairs  sat  Mabel  and 
Nellie  by  the  broad,  clear  windows  that  looked  out  over 
the  bright-roofed  camp  and  the  busy  mines.  Nellie 
was  embroidering,  with  a  great  many  rose-colored  and 
pale  green  and  pearl  silk  flosses,  a  strip  of  russet  brown 
satin,  and  Mabel  divided  her  time  with  a  book  and  the 
glowing  scene  through  the  crystal  window. 

"  Do  you  think  Mrs.  Dennett  will  be  pleased?"  asked 
Nellie,  holding  up  her  work  for  inspection. 

"  She  ought  to  be.  It  is  very  pretty,"  answered 
Mabel. 

"  It  is  folly  perhaps  for  me  to  do  this,"  Nellie  went 
on.  "  She  paints  and  embroiders  exquisitely  herself, 
and  I  presume  she  has  plenty  of  time,  but  I  wanted  to 
make  her  some  little  present,  anyway,  with  my  own 
hands,  and  this  seemed  about  the  only  thing  I  could 
do  up  here." 


SUMMER    SCHEMES.  155 

"  I  am  sure  she  will  prize  it  higher  than  her  own 
work  because  it  is  a  gift,"  said  Mabel,  thinking  how 
Mrs.  Dennett's  blue  eyes  would  light  up  with  pleasure 
when  she  saw  it. 

Nellie  went  on  with  her  careful  stitching,  and  Mabel 
looked  out  of  the  window  again. 

"  O,  there  is  that  Mr.  Brooklyn,  your  friend,  coming 
out  of  the  mill  without  his  hat,  and  a  handkerchief 
over  his  head,"  Mabel  exclaimed  after  a  pause.  "  He 
looks  as  funny  as  a  clown,"  she  added  with  a  laugh. 

Nellie  leaned  forward  to  see  too.  "  That 's  just  like 
him,"  she  said.  "  He  would  n't  do  that  for  a  mint  if  he 
thought  we  were  looking  at  him." 

"  He  is  vain,  then,  and  does  everything  for  appear 
ance." 

"  O  no.  But  I  rather  guess  there  is  a  certain  pair  of 
hazel  eyes  he  is  somewhat  afraid  of  these  days."  Mabel 
blushed,  and  Nellie  continued:  "He  wouldn't  like  to 
have  those  eyes,  of  all  eyes  in  the  world,  see  him  in  his 
laboratory  garb,  especially  if  they  saw  in  him  a  resem 
blance  to  a  clown.  To  tell  the  truth, — the  absolute 
truth,"  she  said,  growing  earnest  and  laying  her  work 
down  in  her  lap  while  she  looked  steadily  at  her  com 
panion, — "  the  man  is  more  than  half  in  love  with  you, 
Mabel.  There  is  no  denying  it.  I  can  read  him  like  a 
book.  You  can  have  the  jolliest  kind  of  a  time  this 
summer,  if  you  only  manage  him  right.  Just  flatter 
him,  and  he  is  your  willing  slave.  But,  after  all,  he  is 
not  so  foolish  as  to  make  himself  a  disagreeable  one 
unless  you  want  him,  and  that  is  a  great  convenience, — • 
to  have  him  ready  to  behave  himself  when  you  get  tired 
of  seeing  him  around.  George  is  very  proud,  you  know. 


156  ABOUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

He  has  excellent  prospects,  besides  being  a  charming 
fellow  himself." 

"  Why,"  said  Mabel,  whose  burning  cheeks  and  ex 
cited  eyes  told  the  story  of  her  agitation,  "  I  am  scarcely 
acquainted  with  Mr.  Brooklyn  yet.  What  makes  you 
say  such  a  thing  as  that  ?  " 

"  Because  I  know  him  better  than  you  do,  and  be 
cause  I  have  ears  also."  * 

"  You  have  ears  !     What  have  you  heard  ?  " 

"  0,  nothing  much.  Just  a  hint,  but  I  understood 
it.  The  other  evening  when  Edward  and  I  were  out 
for  a  walk  we  lingered  till  the  twilight  had  grown  quite 
late,  —  we  are  such  old  friends,  you  know,  and  we  had 
so  many  pleasant  memories  to  recall,  and  so  many 
other  things  to  talk  of,  that  neither  of  us  realized  how 
the  time  was  going,  —  and  so,  as  I  came  through  the 
hall  it  was  rather  dark,  I  lingered  a  moment,  remem 
bering  I  had  forgotten  to  tell  him  something  of  a  little 
importance  to  both  of  us,  and  wondering  if  I  had  better 
turn  back,  when  I  saw  two  figures  in  the  parlor, — 
George  and  Mr.  Sevenoakes,  —  and  I  could  not  help 
hearing  what  they  said.  Mr.  Sevenoakes,  it  seems, 
had  been  speaking  about  the  success  of  the  mines,  and 
mentioned  the  rush  of  new-comers,  and  his  companion, 
George-like  (I  can't  think  of  anything  else  to  cull  it), 
said,  'Yes,  and  better  than  that,  it  is  delightful  to  have 
some  of  those  new-comers  ladies.'  'Aba/  said  Mr. 
Sevenoakes,  c  you  are  susceptible  to  such  allurements, 
are  you?'  and  George  answered,  'I'll  have  to  own  up, 
while  there 's  such  a  pretty  girl  here  as  that  Miss 
Willis,  that  I  am';  and  though  Mr.  Sevenoakes  con 
curred  in  his  opinion,  yet  I  could  see  there  was  a 


BUMMER   SCHEMES.  157 

vast  difference  in  their  degrees  of  admiration.  Besides 
all  this,  I  can  see  by  George's  behavior  that  he  is  won 
derfully  interested." 

u  Why,  Nellie!  Why  did  you  repeat  that  to  me?  It 
was  only  idle  talk.  He  would  never  have  said  such  a 
thing  if  he  had  been  in  earnest." 

"  How  many  times  will  I  have  to  inform  you  that  I 
know  Mr.  George  Brooklyn  better  than  you  do?  He 
meant  it.  And  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  be  a  passive 
goddess,  and  you  have  him  at  your  feet  for  a  long,  de 
lightful  summer's  enjoyment." 

u  Nellie  Minton!  As  if  I  would  trifle  in  that  way!  " 
said  Mabel,  blushing. 

"  As  if  you  would  be  such  a  little  simpleton  as  not 
to  accept  a  man's  admiration  and  get  the  worth  of  it, 
when  you  will  have  it  anyway.  You  don't  know  half 
as  much  about  the  world  as  I  do.  You  are  only  con 
ferring  a  harmless  pleasure  when  you  do  not  decline 
his  attentions  and  yet  do  not  encourage  his  hopes." 

Mabel  closed  her  eyes  and  shook  her  head  as  if  her 
wisdom  of  the  world  extended,  at  least,  to  the  length 
of  knowing  her  duty  in  this  matter. 

"  I  never  believed  such  a  thing  as  that,  Nellie,"  she 
said.  "  It  would  encourage  him  if  I  should  receive  his 
attentions  for  my  own  enjoyment,  as  you  suggest.  A 
summer's  fun!  Why,  I  could  n't  endure  even  the 
thought  of  such  an  arrangement,  much  less  the  prac 
tice  of  it." 

"  0,  very  well,  then,  you  little  know-nothing,"  said 
Nellie,  with  superiority.  "  Snub  him,  and  have  the 
dullest  kind  of  a  summer,  if  you  must.  But  don't 
expect  me  to  stay  at  home  and  mope  with  any  one  who 


158  AROUND  THE;  GOLDEN  DEEP* 

is  so  morbidly  moral  that  she  won't  breathe  for  fear  it 
is  a  sin.  Edward  Dennett,  naturally  enough,  is  likely 
to  devote  some  of  his  time  to  my  pleasure,  and  I  in 
tend  to  accept  it,  too,  —  though  of  course  with  us  it  is 
different  from  the  affair  between  you  and  George.  We 
are  old  friends,  and  little  kindnesses  have  a  far  greater 
weight  in  such  a  case  than  when  they  are  given 
through  a  temporary  friendship  only.  However,  do  as 
you  like,  of  course.  Only  I  thought  it  so  fortunate 
that  George  had  taken  such  a  fancy,  for  then  we  both 
would  have  so  many  opportunities  to  go  out  well  pro 
vided  with  masculine  protection.  O,  it  would  be 
charming,  Mabel.  Consider  well  before  you  make  up 
your  mind  to  snub  Sir  George." 

"  I  have  n't  said  I  shall  snub  him,  Nellie.  I  only 
objected  to  a  deliberate  planning  for  my  summer's 
pleasure  at  the  expense  of  another's  feelings.  If  I  ever 
accept  any  courtesy  from  him  for  the  promotion  of  my 
enjoyment,  it  will  not  be  with  that  end  in  view,  but 
because  I  appreciate  and  accept  an  offered  kindness 
which  has  no  reference  to  the  future  for  either  of  us, 
unless  we  choose  to  so  ngrce." 

"  Of  course,  that  is  what  I  mean,"  chimed  in  Nellie. 
"You  can  get  out  of  it  easy  as  anything,  by  keeping 
him  off  a  little.  Only  you  '11  have  to  give  him  a  little 
hope, — that  is,  you  must  be  pleasant  and  appear  to 
prefer  him,  —  or  you  will  not  be  able  to  keep  him  long, 
unless  he  is  terribly  in  love." 

"  It  is  no  use  talking  to  you,  Nellie,"  said  Mabel. 
"  You  are  a  confirmed  flirt,  so  my  principles  will  never 
be  appreciated  by  you.  But  if  it  is  true  that  Mr.  Brook 
lyn  is  my  admirer,  I  shall  never  use  that  advantage 
for  any  benefit  to  myself." 


SUMMER    SCHEMES.  159 

"  You  'II  learn  some  time/'  said  Nellie,  appearing  to 
be  looking  down  at  her  rosy  threads,  but  stealing  a 
bright,  quick  glance  upward  at  the  blushing  face  by  the 
window;  "but  only  after  you  have  lost  thousands  of 
good  times." 

The  two  girls  sat  in  silence  for  some  minutes,  and 
finally  Mabel  asked  idly,  "  Is  n't  Mr.  Brooklyn  rather 
young  to  be  a  first-class  assayer." 

"Yes.  But  then  you  know  he  is  'smart  as  a  steel 
trap,'  as  some  one  long  ago  used  to  say  of  him.  He 
has  only  been  following  this  business  two  or  three 
years.  When  I  first  knew  him  he  was  studying  chem 
istry  in  an  apothecary's  shop.  Which  do  you  think 
is  the  best  looking,  George  or  Mr.  Sevenoakes?" 

"0,  Mr.  Brooklyn  is  the  finest-looking,  of  course. 
But  Mr.  Dennett  has  very  fine  eyes,"  Mabel  added 
innocently. 

"  Yes,"  Nellie  said,  almost  starting  at  the  mention 
of  his  name.  "  However  few  other  claims  Edward  may 
have  to  good  looks,  his  eyes  are  certainly  very  hand 
some." 

"  But  I  think  Mr.  Dennett  is  rather  a  nice-looking 
young  man,  without  mentioning  his  eyes,"  said  Mabel. 
"  He  is  so  powerful  and  well-formed,  and  his  face  is  so 
full  of  expression,  and  so  cheerful  and  bright."  Some 
how  she  took  a  mild  delight  in  speaking  of  him.  She 
was  unconscious  of  it  herself,  but  Nellie  jealously 
guessed  it,  and  kept  on  talking  to  see  if  she  guessed 
aright.  However,  Mabel's  thoughts  were  so  innocent 
and  natural  that  Nellie  quite  satisfied  herself  there  was 
no  danger  from  that  source.  She  had  opened  the  con 
versation  with  two  objects  in  view.  One  was  to  create 


160  ABOUND1  THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

an  agreeable  impression  of  George  in  Mabel's  mind, 
and  therefore  to  make  the  proposition  of  a  summer's 
enjoyment  suggest  something  better  and  more  lasting, 
which  Mabel  could  indulge  in  secret;  and  the  other 
was  to  give  her  to  understand  by  little  hints,  and  ap 
parently  by  little  accidents,  of  her  own  standing  with 
Edward  Dennett,  and  thereby  assure  her  it  would  be 
dishonest  and  unkind  to  usurp  any  of  his  friendship  or 
attention. 

She  went  on  talking  of  him,  and  recalling  old  times 
and  scenes.  "  When  we  used  to  live  up  here  at  the  old 
town,  which  lies  just  over  the  hill  from  the  camp,"  she 
said,  "  and  I  was  a  mere  child  and  Edward  only  a  half- 
grown  boy,  mamma  and  Mrs.  Dennett  used  to  be  great 
friends.  Of  course  that  was  long,  long  ago,  for  poor 
papa  moved  away  a  few  years  after  the  Golden  Deep 
mines  went  down.  We  went  to  the  city  to  live,  and  then 
we  saw  them  but  seldom,  on  their  occasional  visits  there. 
But  Edward  and  I  have  always  kept  up  the  ;  contract ' 
of  friendship  which  we  once  made.  Before  poor  dear 
papa's  death,  it  was  never  possible  for  me  to  come  up 
here,  —  it  always  brought  such  unpleasant  recollections 
of  his  failure  that  he  would  never  approve  of  it,  —  and 
so  everything  is  quite  new  to  me  as  well  as  to  you, 
though  Mrs.  Dennett's  home  and  the  old  mines  look 
about  the  same  as  they  did  a  dozen  years  ago." 

Mabel  found  a  quiet  pleasure  in  listening  to  the 
praises  of  a  blue-eyed  boy  who  was  manly  and  gen 
erous  among  rough  and  coarse  companions,  and  sat 
listening  to  Nellie's  stories  until  the  sun  hung  threat 
eningly  near  the  horizon  fringed  with  spear-like  pines, 
and  Nellie  folded  up  her  work  and  asked  Mabel  to  go 
for  a  walk. 


SUMMER    SCHEMES.  161 

Out  beyond  the  hotel  to  the  north  a  thick  grove  of 
pines  had  been  allowed  to  grow  in  their  natural  beauty 
quite  unthinned.  The  ground  sloped  with  a  gentle  de 
scent  to  the  bed  of  a  stream  that  flowed  down  the  hill 
at  the  back  of  the  hotel.  On  its  banks  the  pines  natu 
rally  grew  thicker  than  in  other  places,  making  a  dense, 
dark  line  along  the  rocky  channel,  and  extending  over 
the  adjacent  ground  in  straight,  tall  masses  even  up  to 
the  hotel  itself.  The  girls  chose  this  shadowy  creek 
margin  for  their  walk,  and  followed  its  winding  course 
far  up  the  hillside,  till  the  rocks  hung  high  and  dan 
gerous  from  steep  walls  overhead,  and  the  poison-oak 
trailed  its  shapely,  glossy  leaves  in  terrible  beauty  over 
all  the  rock-ribbed  ground. 

"  I  'm  afraid  to  go  farther,"  said  Nellie,  looking  up 
the  deep,  narrow  channel  that  the  stream  had  worn,  "  it 
looks  so  steep,  and  the  poison-oak  has  taken  possession 
of  everything  up  there.  They  have  destroyed  it  farther 
down  stream,  where  the  guests  from  the  hotel  go  to 
walk." 

"O,  come  on,"  cried  Mabel,  springing  up  a  rocky 
bank;  "I  see  such  magnificent  madronos  and  moun 
tain-musk  blooms  up  there,  and  I  must  have  them." 

"  Indeed,  you  are  only  too  kind  to  invite  me  up  into 
the  dangerous  stuff  for  a  lot  of  flowers  that  I  could  get 
for  the  asking,  and  not  have  to  be  laid  up  for  a  week 
with  a  blistered  face,  either." 

"Are  you  sure  you  would  get  poisoned?"  asked  Mabel. 
"  Just  think  what  a  lovely  view  of  all  these  piney  moun 
tains  we  would  have  from  the  summit  of  that  rock  above. 
Let  me  go,  and  you  stay  here." 

"  No,"  said  Nellie.     "  You  go  for  your  madronos,  and 


1G2  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

I  will  wander  off  in  another  direction  for  flowers,  and 
wo  will  meet  at  dinner-time  to  compare  trophies.  How 
is  that  for  a  proposition?" 

"  Very  well,"  answered  Mabel  up  the  height,  rejoiced 
with  the  prospect  of  the  fresh,  bright  flowers  blooming 
so  rarely  beautiful  from  their  high,  unfrequented  home, 
and  the  wide  view  of  the  grand  wild  hills  spread  out 
below  her.  "  But  you  will  not  find  anything  better 
than  I  shall,  I  know,"  she  added. 

Nellie  went  down  again,  keeping  close  to  the  stream 
till  she  reached  the  hotel;  and  looking  back,  far  up  the 
long,  steep  hill,  she  saw  Mabel's  lithe  form  outlined  like 
a  statue  of  morning  against  the  brown  rock  and  the 
trailing  vines  around  her,  waving  a  snowy  handker 
chief  and  a  spray  of  ricli  madronos  in  token  of  her 
triumph.  Nellie  smiled  to  herself.  "  How  fortunate  I 
was  to  get  rid  of  her  like  that !  I  almost  despaired  of 
getting  out  alone  when  Edward  is  apt  to  be  around. 
Now  let  her  ruminate  on  her  high  Olympus,  I  can  get 
enough  from  the  inuch-scorned  world  below,  if  only  he 
is  nigh." 

She  looked  at  her  watch.  She  still  had  time  for  a 
walk  in  the  woods  before  the  welcome  whistle  would 
blow,  so  she  hurried  away  on  the  ferny  path  through 
the  trees  toward  the  Golden  Deep.  She  was  not  afraid 
in  the  lonely,  singing  forest,  for  she  felt  it  quite  impor 
tant  to  find  a  few  flowers  that  would  match  Mabel's 
madronos.  At  last  the  whistle  of  the  Lucky  Streak 
shrieked  out,  full  and  hoarse  at  first,  and  rising  to  a 
high,  shrill  blast  that  went  echoing  through  the  forests 
and  mountains  with  palpitating  answers,  and  she  started 
up  to  find  something  quickly  and  go  home.  But  she 


SUMMER    SCHEMES.  163 

saw  nothing  till  she  came  to  the  little  clearing  familiar 
to  her  from  the  time  when  she  had  so  much  secret 
satisfaction  in  walking  across  it  behind  George,  and 
just  on  the  edge  of  the  thicket  she  caught  sight  of  sev 
eral  clusters  of  delicate,  pale  blue  blossoms  nodding  on 
their  slender  stalks  in  the  gentle  wind.  She  went  fear 
lessly  into  the  bushes  and  began  gathering  the  fragile 
blooms,  wandering  on  and  on  into  the  pines,  for  they 
were  scarce,  until  she  suddenly  became  aware  that  she 
was  not  alone  in  the  grove.  Two  figures  were  before  her, 
half  hidden  in  the  dim  aisles  of  the  pines,  —  George 
and  the  lovely,  dark-eyed  girl  she  had  seen  with  him 
before.  Nellie  shrank  behind  a  tree-trunk,  and  decided 
she  could  put  off  her  haste  homeward  until  she  had 
studied  something  more  of  this  romantic  scene.  It 
was  too  interesting  to  be  missed.  "  They  are  a  hand 
some  pair,"  she  thought,  looking  admiringly  from  the 
olive  face  of  the  girl,  with  her  round,  deep-tinted  cheeks, 
her  full  red  lips,  and  her  thick,  glossy  black  hair,  to 
George,  standing  gracefully  by  an  old  pine-tree,  his 
fine  features  all  aglow  with  the  interest  of  the  moment, 
and  his  flashing  eyes  casting  quick,  admiring  glances 
at  the  half-shrinking  figure  before  him  while  he  talked. 
Nellie  could  not  hear  his  first  words,  but  she  heard 
Nita's  answer  with  just  a  suggestion  of  the  musical 
Spanish  accent  in  it.  "  Yes,  I  '11  promise  to  come," 
she  said,  "if  you  are  sure  no  one  will  know  it.  But 
my  father  would  storm  fearfully  if  he  should  find  out 
that  I  came  to  meet  you  here." 

"  No,  my  little  maid  of  the  mountains,"  said  George, 
advancing  a  step  and  putting  his  arm  caressingly  about 
her.  "  No  one  shall  ever  know  it  in  this  wide  world." 


164  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

Nellie  could  scarcely  stifle  a  giggle  at  this  juncture. 
"  No  one  knows  it  now,  and  it  will  be  a  secret  for  you 
and  me  forever.  And  I  will  get  you  a  ring  for  that 
pretty  little  hand,  and  you  will  be  promised  to  me  till 
I  can  claim  you  for  my  own.  And  then  won't  I  have  a 
beauty  that  every  one  will  be  envious  of,  for  her  fine 
dresses  and  her  bewitching  face.  We  will  go  away 
from  here  then,  and  so  you  must  not  breathe  a  word  of 
this  to  a  living  soul,  or  something  would  happen  to  mar 
our  hopes,  my  little  love." 

"Who  should  I  tell  it  to?  Not  my  father  or 
mother,  surely,  or  they  'd  soon  stop  it;  and  I  would  n't 
tell  it  to  any  one  else." 

"  You  must  not  think  it  strange  if  I  do  not  meet  you 
always  just  as  we  plan,"  he  went  on.  "  I  must  be  very 
careful  not  to  awaken  any  suspicion  that  you  are  my 
little  sweetheart  now." 

u  Yes,  you  '11  be  staying  to  admire  some  of  those  fine 
ladies  up  at  the  hotel.  I  saw  one  once;  she  was  beau 
tiful  and  good,  and  I  know  you  would  never  like  me  if 
you  could  have  her,"  said  Nita,  trying  to  tear  herself 
from  his  strong  clasp. 

"Have  her!  Why,  you  arc  three  times  as  handsome 
to  me, — you  suit  me  three  times  as  well  in  everything. 
Ah!  do  you  think  I  could  exchange  you  for  any  of 
the  girls  up  there  at  the  hotel,  my  dear?  This  little 
beauty  suits  me  best." 

"  Really,  truly  now?     Honestly?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  returned,  hastily.  "  But  I  must  go.  I 
heard  the  whistle  from  the  mine  just  now,  and  I  must 
be  around  the  mill  as  if  I  had  just  left  work;  so  good 
by.  Won't  you  give  me  one  kiss?  " 


SUMMER   SCHEMES.  165 

"0,  I  couldn't,"  answered  Nita,  looking  frightened. 

"  0,  yes,  —  come,"  he  said,  coaxingly.  "  I  can't  go 
away  without  it";  and  he  pressed  a  warm  kiss  on  her 
bright  red  lips,  and  with  a  fond  glance  left  her  stand 
ing  in  the  twilight  woods.  She  waited  till  his  footsteps 
ceased  to  crackle  on  the  dried,  fallen  branches  that 
hid  themselves  under  the  spring's  covering  of  fresh 
green  grasses,  and  started  back  to  her  home. 

"  I  must  have  a  better  look  at  her,"  thought  Nellie, 
coming  boldly  out  of  her  hiding-place  to  meet  Nita 
face  to  face.  The  girl  did  not  see  where  the  intruder 
came  from,  but  she  remembered  of  hearing  110  footsteps 
under  the  pines  since  George's  died  away,  and  her 
heart  beat  wildly,  with  a  vague  fear  that  they  had  not 
been  alone.  As  Nellie  passed,  her  face  flushed  a  deep 
crimson,  covering  even  her  dusky  brow  and  neck  with 
a  glow  like  the  sunset.  Nellie  smiled.  "Well  she 
may  blush,"  she  said,  "  to  be  out  secretly  making  love 
with  such  a  man  as  he  ";  and  she  hurried  off,  thinking 
of  Edward,  while  Nita  stood  sorrowfully  watching  the 
retreating  figure  till  it  was  lost  among  the  trees. 

Edward  Dennett,  standing  on  the  flowery  slope 
above  the  mill,  looking  down  on  the  other  side  at  the 
shattered  roofs  of  the  old  town,  picturesque  in  their 
loneliness  and  decay,  and  enjoying  a  breath  of  the 
singing  breeze,  was  surprised  to  sec  Nellie  come  out  of 
the  twilight  shadows  that  were  creeping  into  the  sur 
rounding  woods.  £he  started  nervously  when  she  saw 
him,  as  if  all  her  mind  had  been  centred  on  her  own 
happy  fancies,  but  looked  up  with  a  smile  as  he  came 
toward  her  with  a  pleasant  u  Good  evening."  "  Been 
out  for  flowers,  I  see,"  he  said.  "  You  are  well  repaid, 
for  these  are  rare.  Where  did  you  get  them?  " 


166  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"  0,  I  went  a  long  way  into  the  wood,  but  I  do  not 
know  just  where.  Mabel  and  I  have  entered  into  com 
petition  this  afternoon.  We  are  going  to  see  who  will 
find  the  prettiest  flowers." 

Coming  down  the  hill,  with  brilliant,  fragrant  masses 
of  musk  blooms  and  madronos  in  her  hands,  Mabel 
caught  sight  of  Edward  and  Nellie  coming  up  out  of 
the  woods,  armed  with  their  dainty  bunches  of  pale 
blue  blossoms,  and  a  blush  rose  to  her  pretty  cheek, 
that  even  the  wind's  sweetest  and  coolest  kisses  could 
not  bring. 

"  Good  evening,  Miss  Willis,"  said  Edward,  raising 
his  hat  as  she  came  up,  and  smilingly  examining  her 
flowers. 

"Who  has  found  the  best?"  asked  Nellie.  "You 
shall  be  judge,  Edward." 

"  No;  I  must  decline  to  be  entered  for  any  such  fate 
as  I  should  inevitably  meet  if  I  were  to  attempt  the 
office,"  replied  Edward,  playfully. 

A  richer  blush  deepened  on  Mabel's  cheek  as  she 
glanced  first  at  the  frank  blue  eyes  of  the  strong,  fair- 
haired  man  before  her,  and  then  at  the  delicate  azure 
flowers  that  trembled  with  a  cloudy  beauty  in  Nellie's 
hand,  and  she  herself  decided,  —  "Nellie  did  find  the 
best  in  everything." 


TRIFLING.  167 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

TRIFLING. 

He  asked  a  tress,  that  he  might  idly  boast 

Of  winning  this  young  beauty's  untouched  heart. 

Selected. 

SPRING,  loitering  on  her  cool,  dewy  highways  over 
the  summits,  at  last  gave  way  to  summer,  and  then 
the  mountains  changed  their  brilliant,  plushy  robe  of 
green  to  one  of  glossy,  netted  gold,  and  the  fresh,  bright 
mornings  gave  up  their  balmy  coolness  to  sultry  noons 
and  tropic-heated  sunbeams. 

Times  were  good  at  the  Lucky  Streak;  the  vein  con 
tinued  rich,  the  workmen  were  plenty,  and  so  the 
whistle's  busy  blasts  were  music  to  the  ear  of  little 
Mr.  Sevenoakes. 

He  and  George  kept  up  their  friendship.  Indeed, 
Mr.  Sevenoakes  was  very  much  pleased  that  he  had 
found  some  one  to  smoke  with  him.  Edward  Dennett 
might  have  enjoyed  that  distinction  if  he  had  only 
been  a  little  more  partial  to  fragrant  Havanas,  but  Mr. 
Sevenoakes  had  to  accustom  himself  to  smoking  alone 
until  George  came;  after  that  fortunate  event,  however, 
the  two  managed  to  spend  an  hour  during  some  part 
of  every  evening  talking  over  the  happenings  of  the 
day,  and  inhaling  the  delightful  incense  which  their 
sublime  weeds  scattered  on  the  gently  stirring  breezes. 

One  evening  in  June  the  two  met  down  by  the  mill, 
and  after  lighting  their  cigars,  made  a  little  circuit  of 


168  AROUND    THE    GOLDEN    DEEP. 

inspection  over  the  mines.  It  was  twilight,  and  the 
darkness  was  gathering  in  the  pine  forest  that  ex 
tended  up  to  the  mill  on  one  side,  but  presently  out  of 
the  shades  came  Nita  with  her  usual  basket  of  eggs 
for  the  hotel.  The  two  men  looked  up  when  they 
heard  the  rustle  of  her  footstep  in  the  grass,  and  Mr. 
Sevenoakes  remarked  carelessly,  "  What  a  fine-look 
ing  daughter  Logan  can  boast  of." 

"  Yes,"  answered  George,  with  a  sly  twinkle  in  his 
eye;  "  she  is  a  good-looking  girl." 

"  Plenty  of  fire,  though,"  said  Mr.  Sevenoakes, 
crushing  out  the  light  of  his  discarded  cigar  with  his 
foot,  and  leaving  it  a  little  doubtful  which  fire  he 
meant. 

"  Not  quite  so  much  as  you  might  think,"  said 
George,  knowingly.  ';  She  is  pretty  easily  managed 
sometimes.  I  would  n't  be  afraid  myself  to  undertake 
the  task  of  subduing  her  fiery  temper." 

"  O,  you  wouldn't,  eh?"  said  the  little  man,  laugh 
ing.  "  That 's  because  you  don't  know  how  she  settles 
all  the  dandies  who  travel  around  in  these  parts." 

u  What  will  you  bet  I  can't  get  her  to  take  the  best 
kind  of  notice  of  me  now?" 

"  I  wouldn't  advise  you  to  try,"  returned  Mr.  Seven 
oakes,  ready  to  dismiss  the  subject. 

"Well,  just  watch,"  said  George,  starting  away  tow 
ard  Nita,  anxious  to  prove  his  power. 

Mr.  Sevenoakes  perched  himself  upon  a  stump, 
laughing  good-naturedly,  and  watched  the  proceed 
ings.  "  Now  I  'm  ready  to  see  one  or  both  of  them 
play  the  fool,"  he  thought.  "  However,  George  is  a 
pretty  good  sort  of  fellow,  as  the  world  goes,  if  he  is 


TRIFLING.  169 

a  little  bit  too  sweet  on  the  ladies,"  —  tins  not  with 
out  rather  a  disagreeable  remembrance  of  how  the 
haughty,  mincing,  proud  Mrs.  Sevenoakes,  who  usu 
ally  set  her  dainty  blond  head  far  above  any  one  of 
George's  station,  had  condescended  to  chat  quite 
warmly  with  him  one  whole  evening  on  the  hotel  ve 
randa,  notwithstanding  that  young  man's  efforts  to  be 
attentive  to  Mabel  at  the  same  time;  and  how  afterward 
the  fastidious  Mrs.  Sevenoakes  had  pronounced  "  that 
young  Mr.  Brooklyn  "  a  very  brilliant  and  entertaining 
person. 

Nita  was  pursuing  her  way,  unconscious  of  any  one 
near,  when  George  followed  her  a  few  steps,  and  touch 
ing  her  on  the  shoulder,  said  something  to  her.  A 
deeper  crimson  burned  on  her  cheek  as  she  took  his 
offered  hand,  but  she  shrank  back  as  if  to  end  the  meet 
ing  there,  when  George  led  her  over  into  the  shadow  of 
the  mill,  and  within  hearing  of  Mr.  Sevenoakes,  who  sat 
placidly  on  his  stump  looking  on,  not  without  feelings 
of  contempt  for  the  whole  affair,  and  rather  wishing 
himself  out  of  it,  as  something  far  below  his  dignity. 

"  Nita,"  said  George,  "  won't  you  give  me  a  lock  of 
your  hair  to  put  in  my  watch-chain?  I  am  going  to 
send  it  away  to-morrow  to  be  woven,  and  I  should  like 
to  have  it  now." 

"Yes,  I  '11  give  a  lock  to  you,"  she  replied,  her  eyes 
sparkling.  "  How  much  will  you  have  ?  "  she  asked, 
holding  up  a  long  black  braid. 

"  This  will  do,"  cutting  off  a  glossy  strand  with  his 
knife.  "  Now  good  by;  I  hated  to  stop  you  here,  but  I 
couldn't  help  it,  you  see;  and  your  father  will  never 
know  of  it." 


170  AHOUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP* 

She  turned  to  go,  but  caught  sight  of  the  superin 
tendent  seated  comfortably  on  his  elevated  lookout,  and 
observing  the  whole  affair  with  a  good  deal  of  surprise. 
The  sunset  blush  burned  over  brow  and  neck  again  as 
she  hastened  away,  and  great  tears  splashed  on  the 
shapely  bare  hand  that  held  the  basket. 

"  I  've  made  something  by  it,"  said  George,  coming 
back  to  Mr.  Sevenoakes  with  a  triumphant  smile,  and 
holding  up  the  lock  of  hair.  "This  will  weave  very 
prettily  into  my  watch-chain.  She  is  not  such  a  spit 
fire,  after  all,  when  she's  managed  right;  now,  is  she? 
She  's  a  pretty  little  girl,  and  a  pleasant  one  too,  if  you 
only  just  know  how  to  take  her." 

George  began  to  feel  rather  ashamed  of  his  vanity, 
manifested  in  such  a  coarse  way,  and  he  thought  best 
not  to  refer  to  it  again,  when  Mr.  Sevenoakes  jumped 
down  from  his  stump  with  a  laugh,  —  about  just  what 
George  was  rather  anxious  to  find  out,  —  and  offering  a 
cigar,  said  calmly:  "That  proves  nothing,  young  man. 
Every  one  is  not  so  fascinating  as  you  are.  I  would  n't 
advise  you  to  sail  in  too  steep  there,  though;  she  might 
use  her  temper  for  even  your  benefit  some  day.  Come 
on,  let  us  go  and  see  what  Dennett 's  got  over  there  in 
that  dump-car  which  so  interests  him." 

Meantime  Nita  went  her  way  with  her  despised  eggs 
on  her  arm,  trying  to  see  through  fast-falling  tears  the 
swimming  path  before  her.  She  was  tortured  by  a 
tumult  of  agonizing  fears.  The  fresh,  bright  world, 
and  the  star-gemmed  twilight  with  its  wooing  beauty, 
were  suddenly  bathed  in  a  mournful  blackness.  Was 
George  a  traitor  to  her  ?  Was  he  deceiving  her,  after 
all  ?  What  shameful  thing  was  this  she  had  just  done 


TRIFLING.  171 

in  the  sight  of  the  world  ?  She  wiped  her  eyes  to  make 
herself  more  presentable  in  the  great,  lighted  hotel 
kitchen,  though  her  heart  seemed  torn  and  wounded 
with  a  wild  unrest  that  brought  the  tears  afresh. 

But  what  voice  was  this,  so  sweet  and  soft  and  kindly, 
coming  to  her  from  the  low  side  balcony,  like  a  voice' 
from  heaven,  and  calling  gently,  "Nita!"  She  looked 
up.  Mabel  stood  leaning  over  the  white  carved  railing 
above,  radiant  in  a  snowy,  lace-trimmed  muslin,  lighted 
up  with  a  spray  of  rich  pink  oleanders  and  wild  moun 
tain  fern.  What  a  beautiful  face  she  had  for  Nita, 
sickened  with  the  world's  treachery  and  unthinking 
cruelty  !  It  was  full  of  kindness  and  gentle  pity;  a 
face  with  patience  in  it,  and  beaming  with  the  soft, 
glowing  light  of  love.  To  Nita's  quick  remembrance 
there  flashed  the  image  of  her  own  face  as  she  had  seen 
it  reflected  from  her  mirror,  its  dark,  oval  beauty  graven 
with  lines  of  deep  impulse  and  feeling,  brilliant  with 
rich,  warm  hues  coming  and  going,  and  great  dark 
eyes  gleaming  with  an  unsteady  glow.  Mabel's  face 
seemed  far  more  beautiful  to  her,  for  behind  those  deli 
cate  features  shone  a  spiritual  glory  and  loveliness; 
there  was  a  soft  light  in  her  clear,  dark  eyes,  and  the 
rich  masses  of  her  nut-brown  hair  seemed  fine  and 
glossy  as  spun  silk.  She  was  a  lovely  being,  made  of 
finer  clay  than  poor,  impulsive  Nita. 

Mabel's  calm  manner  seemed  to  dispel  Nita's  un- 
happiness,  and  she  looked  up  timidly,  a  great  lull 
sweeping  through  the  storm  of  her  feelings,  to  this  girl 
who  seemed  an  angel  in  her  purity. 

"Come  up  to  see  me  when  you  have  disposed  of  your 
eggs,"  Mabel  said;  and  somehow  this  mention  of  them 


172  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

made  the  hated  basket  of  pearly  eggs  seem  far  more 
honorable  than  before. 

If  poor  Nita  had  a  sorrow  that  night,  she  also  had  a 
joy  that  was  to  her  a  partial  fulfilment  of  her  fondest 
hopes;  for  Mabel,  out  of  her  well-filled  wardrobe,  gave 
her  a  silken,  sheeny  grenadine,  glittering  here  and  there 
with  jetty  spangles.  Nita  did  not  presume  to  kiss  the 
fair  delicate  being  who  was  so  kind  to  her,  but  when 
she  took  her  leave  she  held  out  her  little  brown  hand 
and  told  her  thanks  so  earnestly  that  Mabel  saw  it  was 
hard  work  for  the  proud  girl  to  keep  back  her  choking 
tears.  Nita  went  home  with  her  precious  gift  in  the 
empty  egg-basket,  and  her  heart,  that  had  been  heavy 
with  sorrows,  overflowing  with  gratitude  and  happiness, 
and  even  complete  forgiveness  toward  George. 

And  George,  whose  conscience  was  very  elastic,  did 
not  think  that  Nita  had  ground  for  any  possible  com 
plaint  against  him  when  next  he  waited  at  their  tryst- 
ing-place  in  the  wood,  and  silenced  her  jealous  fears 
with  assurances  which  he  himself  almost  believed  to 
be  true. 

His  suit  with  Mabel  did  not  progress  any  too  well. 
She  was  cold-hearted,  he  thought,  proud  of  her  beauty 
and  her  wealth;  but  her  shyness  only  made  him  desire 
the  more  to  win  her  and  glory  in  his  conquest.  But 
after  the  middle  of  summer  he  recognized  a  rival  in  the 
affair.  The  rival  presented  himself  in  the  form  of  a 
tall,  thin  man,  who  was  a  lawyer,  and  consumptive. 
James  Knowles  had  known  Mabel  when  she  was  a 
child,  and  through  a  service  done  to  her  family  held  a 
strong  claim  on  her  kindness  and  consideration.  How 
ever,  George  did  not  think  it  quite  right  that  he  should 


TRIFLING.  173 

exercise  it  to  further  his  designs  as  a  suitor,  and  follow 
her  to  this  mountain  retreat.  Knowles  was  a  silent 
man.  He  watched  constantly  every  one  around  him, 
but  seldom  spoke  except  when  roused  up  to  the  subject 
of  the  law,  and  then  he  always  blazed  forth  with  un 
tiring  eloquence,  which  not  even  the  prospect  of  Mabel's 
company  could  persuade  him  to  leave  unfinished.  He 
seemed  secretly  jealous  of  any  one  who  even  spoke  to 
Mabel;  and  since  he  had  nothing  to  do,  he  spent  most 
of  his  time  entertaining  Mr.  Sevenoakes  and  other 
worthies  about  the  mine,  and  the  rest  of  it  listening 
and  watching.  George  came  to  regard  him  as  rather  a 
dangerous  rival,  one  who  would  be  well  armed  if  any 
fate  should  give  an  opponent  the  ascendency.  He 
thought  of  Nellie  Minton  and  her  power  to  disgrace 
him,  and  the  thought  was  not  altogether  wholesome; 
for  he  did  not  know  what  Knowles  might  not  get  hold 
of  to  worst  him  in  case  Mabel  should  at  last  be  won. 
Still  he  could  do  nothing  but  "  confound  Nellie  Min 
ton,"  and  call  Knowles  an.  "unprincipled  cur,"  and  let 
the  matter  rest.  But  George  had  a  far  more  dangerous 
rival  than  Mr.  Knowles,  in  Edward  Dennett.  It  mat 
tered  little  who  cared  for  Mabel  so  long  as  her  heart 
was  untouched.  But  while  Edward  Dennett  held  such 
a  charm  for  the  pretty,  true-hearted  girl,  it  was  useless 
for  Aunt  Willis  to  scold,  and  say  that  the  young  men  of 
the  mines  were  far  below  her  station,  or  for  even  George 
Brooklyn  or  Mr.  Knowles  to  lay  siege  to  her  heart. 

Edward  himself  looked  upon  her  as  one  of  those  rare 
beings  who  are  like  gems  among  gaudy  baubles.  He 
admired  her;  he  respected  her.  He  felt  more:  he  al 
most  loved  her  in  a  sense;  and  yet  her  pride  and 


174  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

apparent  coldness  chilled  even  his  admiration,  and  he 
felt  that  she  could  never  be  more  to  him  than  a  mem 
ory.  And  there  was  even  something  else  that  came 
between  their  friendship.  Nellie's  love-lighted  glances 
made  him  feel  that,  although  his  heart  was  untouched 
by  them,  in  consideration  of  his  friendship  to  her,  he 
should  strive  to  save  her  feelings  where  he  could  do  so 
without  positive  injury  to  himself. 

July  came,  with  its  sultry  heats  and  glimmering 
skies,  and  though  the  vein  continued  fair,  and  working 
was  easy,  Mr.  Sevenoakes  decided  to  celebrate  the  in 
dependence  of  his  country  by  giving  the  men  a  holiday. 

The  day  broke  with  a  sky  so  rich  and  golden  that 
even  old  residents  took  out  their  palm-leaf  hats,  and 
filled  their  sprinklers,  with  dubious  thoughts  about  the 
heat,  and  the  miners  spent  most  of  their  time  wishing 
for  watermelons,  or  that  they  might  pass  the  day  at 
the  bottom  of  the  shaft.  No  whistle  blew  from  the 
roaring  mill  that  morning,  and  the  bright  weathercock 
on  the  top  had  to  relinquish  the  highest  place  to  the 
brilliant  stars  and  stripes  which  Edward  Dennett 
proudly  hoisted  before  daybreak,  so  that  even  the 
earliest  risers  could  see  the  glorious  colors  flaunting 
through  the  pines  at  their  first  look  upon  the  outside 
world.  From  many  a  new-roofed  dwelling  in  the  town 
of  Lucky  Streak  floated  the  dear  old  flag,  and  many  a 
barefooted  urchin  shouted  for  George  Washington,  and 
fired  crackers  with  true  patriotic  zest.  The  miners 
loitered  about  the  town  until  the  heat  of  the  day  came 
on,  and  then  scattered  about  in  the  long  cool  sheds, 
busy  over  their  cards  and  wine. 

Edward  Dennett  had  planned  a  little  exploring  party 


TRIFLING.  175 

to  the  old  mines  of  the  Golden  Deep,  partly  to  afford 
pleasure  to  the  ladies  at  the  hotel,  and  partly  because 
lie  had  a  strong  desire  to  visit  the  long-closed  mill 
again.  The  neglected  mill  and  the  abandoned  mine 
had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  his  father  after  the  cessa 
tion  of  mining  operations,  to  satisfy  an  old  debt.  The 
property  was  considered  nearly  worthless,  except  for 
the  half-worn-out  machinery;  and  Edward,  who  in 
herited  it  after  his  father's  death,  found  his  time  so 
occupied  with  his  daily  labors  at  Lucky  Streak  that 
he  had  never  found  a  suitable  opportunity  to  investi 
gate  its  value.  Around  it  lingered  still  its  old-time 
glory  in  Edward's  mind,  and  he  could  not  help  feeling 
somewhat  proud  of  his  ownership,  notwithstanding  the 
exhausted  lode  had  long  since  lost  its  power  to  attract 
the  restless  gold-seekers.  And  so  this  holiday  he 
felt  that  he  could  almost  revive  the  feelings  of  his 
boyhood  with  a  glimpse  of  the  interior  of  the  old 
abandoned  mill.  Consequently,  on  that  warm  July 
morning,  the  breakfast-bell  at  the  Royal  Regina  rang 
a  half-hour  earlier  than  usual,  and  there  was  a  genteel 
Btir  all  over  the  house,  that  broke  up  pleasantly  its  long 
monotonous  quiet.  Most  of  the  guests  decided  to  go, 
so  that  there  were  nearly  twenty  persons  in  the  little 
party,  and  all  the  available  vehicles  were  in  demand. 
The  old  mines  were  less  than  a  mile  from  Lucky 
Streak,  and  many  preferred  to  walk,  but  Edward  Den 
nett  found  himself  faced  with  the  puzzle  of  how  to  find 
a  conveyance  large  enough  to  accommodate  his  friends. 
However,  the  matter  was  settled  by  Nellie,  not  altogether 
to  his  satisfaction,  when  Mr.  Sevenoakes  drove  up  to  the 
crowded  veranda  in  his  shining  black  carriage  with  its 


176  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

satiny  black  horses  for  Mrs.  Sevenoakes  and  her  lady 
friend,  Mrs.  Winsor. 

"You  selfish  mortal!"  said  Nellie,  as  he  came  up  the 
steps,  "  to  have  all  that  room  in  your  carriage  and  not 
invite  some  of  these  poor  waiting  creatures  to  occupy 
it." 

"  That 's  just  what  I  intend  to  do,"  replied  Mr.  Seven 
oakes,  cordially;  "  come  along  yourself." 

"Not  I,  indeed!"  said  Nellie,  with  a  quick  glance  at 
Edward,  who  stood  near  the  steps  putting  on  his  driv 
ing-gloves  while  he  waited.  The  little  man  understood, 
and  his  precious  pride  was  not  wounded.  Nellie  was 
willing  to  forego  the  honor  of  riding  with  the  superin 
tendent's  party  behind  his  spirited  blacks  for  the  sake 
of  Edward's  company,  and  he  had  a  careless  respect 
for  the  motive. 

"  0,  well,"  he  returned  good-naturedly,  laughing,  "it 
is  Miss  Willis  I  want.  Will  you  consent  to  ride  with 
us,  Miss  Willis?"  Mabel  looked  toward  Nellie,  and 
the  latter  young  lady  telegraphed  back  in  unmistak 
able  language,  "  By  all  means,  go.  You  will  get  rid  of 
that  distressing  Knowles  now";  and  so  Mabel  went, 
although  there  was  a  certain  sinking  of  her  heart  that 
she  would  not  acknowledge  even  to  herself.  But  Mr. 
Sevenoakes  was  agreeably  affected,  and  assisted  her 
to  a  seat  with  a  good  deal  of  airy  grace,  while  proud 
Mrs.  Sevenoakes,  whose  liking  for  Mabel  was  not  too 
great,  decided  that  she  too  should  have  a  share  in  se 
lecting  the  occupants  of  their  carriage,  and  so  with  a 
stately  toss  of  her  blond  head,  and  a  melting  look  from 
her  fine  blue  eyes,  which  did  not  make  the  most  happy 
impression  on  her  observing  lord,  said  to  George,  "And 


TRIFLING.  177 

Mr.  Brooklyn  will  be  a  valuable  addition  if  lie  will 
come."  That  young  man  stood  looking  up  toward  the 
carriage  (in  reality  at  Mabel,  but  Mrs.  Sevenoakes 
thought  it  was  meant  for  herself),  with  an  expression 
of  careless  admiration  that  was  very  becoming  to  his 
handsome  face,  which  instantly  changed  to  one  of 
sparkling  interest  at  these  words;  but  he  said,  "You 
will  be  crowded,  I  fear;  you  have  four  already,  so  I 
must  decline  with  thanks." 

Mr.  Sevenoakes's  early  impression  of  George  had 
never  changed.  That  first  morning  when  the  eulo 
gistic  paragraph  in  the  Report  had  set  him  into  such 
excellent  humor,  and  George  had  appeared  on  the  scene 
as  the  originator  of  it,  and  had  promised  to  be  such  a 
pleasant,  companionable  fellow,  always  rose  before  him 
at  such  times  as  these,  and  gave  the  little  shuttle-like 
man  greater  breadth  of  action.  If  there  was  anything 
that  could  win  him,  it  was  a  word  of  praise,  not  vul 
garly  bestowed,  but  given  as  if  an  acknowledgment  of 
true  merit,  and  he  never  ceased  to  gratefully  remem 
ber  the  compliment.  If  it  had  not  been  for  this,  it  is 
quite  likely  Mr.  Sevenoakes  would  not  have  said  so 
heartily,  "Plenty  of  room,  of  course,  George.  You  are 
expected,  anyway.  On  the  back  seat  with  Miss  Willis 
I  presume  you  can  manage  to  find  a  place";  and  of 
course  George  did  manage,  for  Mrs.  Winsor  immedi 
ately  offered  to  sit  on  the  front  seat,  where  there  was 
more  room,  since  Mrs.  Sevenoakes  was  so  small  and 
willowy. 

George  was  in  the  seventh  heaven  of  bliss.  He  ad 
justed  the  robe  with  careful  politeness,  praised  in  glow 
ing  terms  the  changing  scenes  before  them,  even  quoted 


178  AROUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 

in  a  deep,  melodious  voice  stray  bits  of  poetry,  and 
charmingly  alluded  to  the  joy  it  would  be  to  him  could 
he  always  be  skimming  through  such  balmy  air  with 
a  white-robed  fairy  beside  him.  It  was  rather  a  bold 
thing  to  say  to  a  girl  like  Mabel,  who  had  never  given 
him  even  a  ghost  of  encouragement;  but  George  was 
always  free  with  his  compliments,  and  his  manner 
gave  them  a  spice  of  audacity  that  was  at  first  very 
agreeable.  He  ingeniously  made  occasions,  and  paid 
them  gracefully;  and  they  always  seemed  to  have  a 
hidden  fire  and  a  personal  application,  that  made  them 
seem  more  than  mere  words,  so  that  even  when  they 
were  unwelcome  they  could  not  be  repelled  very  effect 
ively;  and  this  morning  they  were  accompanied  with 
glances  of  undisguised  admiration  from  his  handsome 
dark  eyes  that  in  some  cases  would  have  been  irresist 
ible.  But  they  were  lost  on  Mabel,  who  was  thinking 
idly  how  in  the  world  Mr.  Sevenoakes,  who  sat  in  front 
of  her,  could  always  keep  his  fine  black  coat  without 
the  slightest  suggestion  of  dust,  his  black  beaver  so 
glossy,  and  his  bright  sleek  hair  so  evenly  combed  in 
an  exact  curving  line  along  his  fair,  pink-tinted  neck. 
Knowlcs,  standing  on  the  steps,  had  seen  one  of 
George's  love-freighted  looks,  and  turned  away,  white 
with  rage,  muttering,  "  I  expect  now  I  've  got  as  much 
to  fear  from  that  evil-eyed  scamp  as  from  the  honor 
able  Dennett  himself.  I  shall  have  to  kill  one  or 
both  of  them."  He  had  guessed  Mabel's  secret  already, 
and  knew  that  although  George  had  been  openly  his 
opponent,  and  Edward  had  devoted  some  of  his  time  to 
Nellie,  Mabel's  cheeks  had  borrowed  the  deeper  tint  of 
the  rose's  heart,  and  her  eye  had  beamed  with  a  soft, 
new  light,  whenever  Edward  spoke  to  her. 


TRIFLING.  179 

Edward  Dennett  saw  George's  glances,  too,  but  he 
only  smiled  to  himself.  He  felt  that  to  this  lovely 
girl,  whose  path  had  seemed  to  lead  in  pleasant  places, 
such  proofs  of  devotion  were  quite  unheeded;  and  he 
was  right. 

It  was  with  interest  that  the  party  opened  the  wide, 
creaking  doors  and  entered  the  musty  ruins  of  the  old 
mill.  Its  rafters,  once  bright  red,  had  turned  to  brown 
cracked  beams,  and  on  its  broad  sagging  belts  the 
dust  of  years  had  collected,  thick  and  mildewed.  There 
were  traces  of  past  elegance  in  the  embellished  pillars 
and  the  .fine-grooved  floors,  and  the  unmistakable 
marks  of  neglect  and  decay  in  the  rusty  machinery 
and  the  rain-stained  walls.  The  buildings  were  large, 
and  all  adjoined,  so  that  the  party  went  from  one  to 
another  well  protected  from  the  hot  July  sun  with 
out.  There  were  the  little  offices,  with  glass  doors  and 
moulded  ceilings;  the  great  machinery-room  full  of 
motionless  wheels,  and  rusty,  broken  water-pipes;  the 
engine-room,  from  which  that  hissing  steam-generator 
had  been  removed,  leaving  a  black,  oil-stained  hole; 
and  the  terrible  shaft-house,  with  its  cages  hanging 
over  the  door  of  the  gaping  black  pit,  and  its  cars  piled 
up  in  disordered  heaps  over  the  pumps  and  windlasses. 

To  Edward  Dennett  these  scenes  were  particularly 
interesting.  It  recalled  his  happy,  careless  boyhood 
to  see  those  broad  doors  opened  wide,  letting  in  the  sun 
that  for  so  many  years  had  been  shut  away  from  the 
damp  floors,  and  to  hear  the  voices  echoing  resonant 
and  clear  from  the  hollow  domes  as  of  old. 

"  Ugh !  this  atmosphere  reminds  one  of  a  cold 
blast  from  the  ruins  of  the  Mediaeval  ages,  it  is  so 


180  AROUND    THE   GOLDEN    DEEP. 

mouldy  and  damp  and  close,  with  no  suggestion  of 
nineteenth-century  civilization  or  sunshine,"  said  Mabel 
to  Edward,  as  they  entered  the  shaft-house. 

"Your  remark  seems  but  an  echo  of  my  thoughts," 
he  replied;  "but  the  Middle  Ages  represent  my  early 
life,  and  these  noisome  scents  come  from  the  decay  of 
the  perishing  years." 

He  stood  silently  looking  around  him,  recalling  old 
associations,  remembering  how,  when  he  was  a  small 
lad,  he  had  deemed  it  a  herculean  feat  to  push  one  of 
those  empty  ore-cars  along  its  shining  track,  how  he 
had  held  his  hand  to  catch  the  muddy  stream  that 
poured  out  of  the  wide-mouthed  pumps,  and  looked 
with  wonder  upon  those  flying  belts  and  buzzing  wheels. 
But  the  coming  years  and  the  crown  of  manhood  had 
made  all  these  things  clear,  and  he  was  master  of  his 
work  in  every  line;  and  now  he  was  still  standing 
among  the  grander  mysteries  of  life,  like  a  child  trying 
to  discern  with  his  weak  insight  the  mighty  problems 
of  existence.  We  only  rise  higher  to  learn  how  much 
deeper  was  our  previous  ignorance.  He  had  stood  but 
a  moment  thus,  lost  in  reverie  and  reflection,  when  he 
suddenly  roused  himself  from  the  graves  of  the  past, 
lest  his  thoughtful  mood  should  seem  like  indifference 
to  Mabel.  But  when  he  looked  around  for  her,  she  was 
gone. 


THE  TUNNEL  AT  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP.  181 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE  TUNNEL   AT   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

Oh,  there  is  nothing  holier  in  this  life  of  ours  than  the  first  con 
sciousness  of  love, — the  first  fluttering  of  its  silken  wings, — the 
first  rising  sound  and  breath  of  that  wind  which  is  so  soon  to  sweep 
through  the  soul,  to  purify  or  to  destroy.  —  LONGFELLOW. 

THAT  was  an  eventful  day  at  the  old  mill  for  two 
lives  at  least.  The  current  of  our  destiny  is  sometimes 
turned  into  other  channels  by  only  a  shining  bar  of 
pebbles  or  a  low  reef  of  crumbling  rocks;  and  so  by  the 
slightest  chain  of  happenings  on  this  day  revelations 
were  made  that  changed  the  course  of  all  after-coming 
events. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  merry-making  inside  those 
dingy  walls,  and  at  last  a  few  decided  to  take  lunch 
there,  and  sent  a  messenger  over  to  the  hotel  for  the 
viands.  They  spread  the  table  on  an  overturned  car, 
and  dined  in  unique  picnic  fashion,  enjoying  their 
queer  surroundings  even  more  than  if  they  were  in  the 
midst  of  outdoor  leafy  woods,  gathered  about  the  low, 
flat  rocks  that  nature  seems  to  have  designed  for  the 
table  of  primitive  man. 

Nellie  was  in  high  glee,  having  secured  Edward  for 
the  day,  as  she  thought,  and  her  glib  tongue  and  blithe 
manner  made  her  appear  to  be  the  most  brilliant  lady 
in  the  company.  George  sarcastically  whispered  to 
Mabel  at  the  table  that  she  certainly  was  the  most 
brilliant,  when  a  ray  of  glowing  sunlight  broke  through 


182  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

the  shattered  roof  and  fell  upon  her  bright  auburn  hair, 
lighting  it  up  beautifully  with  a  thousand  flecks  of  red 
dish  gold. 

After  lunch  a  few  gathered  in  one  of  the  little  offices 
to  hear  a  story  about  the  place  from  Mrs.  Dennett, 
while  others  sauntered  around,  intent  on  exploring  to 
the  fullest  extent  the  quaint  ruins  of  the  mines.  Among 
the  latter  was  Mabel,  who  succeeded  in  ridding  herself 
of  George,  and  getting  her  hat,  stole  quietly  out  of  the 
wide  front  doors  for  a  glimpse  of  the  reddish  mounds 
of  earth  and  the  strange  wrecks  lying  about  the  build 
ings  outside. 

She  had  not  been  gone  long  when  Mrs.  Willis  sought 
Edward  Dennett,  as  one  the  most  familiar  with  the 
vicinity,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  find  her,  adding, 
"  I  am  afraid  of  this  spot,  there  are  so  many  shafts  and 
terrible  places." 

Nellie  was  not  pleased  to  be  deprived  of  her  best 
company,  so  she  said,  partly  as  a  warning,  but  more 
as  a  petty  revenge  to  nettle  the  fretful  lady,  "  You  had 
better  be  careful  that  she  does  not  wander  off  and 
marry  that  same  young  man  you  have  sent  for  her. 
Mabel's  money  might  be  a  temptation  even  to  the  most 
honorable  person." 

The  eccentric  old  lady  had  her  doubts  about  the  last 
statement,  but  she  believed  that  any  one  of  Mabel's 
admirers  was  especially  partial  to  her  small  fortune, 
and  hence  she  was  suspicious  of  all  alike.  So  this  last 
shot  cost  Mabel  an  hour  of  rigid,  painful  questioning. 

Edward  sauntered  off  through  the  buildings,  and  at 
length,  thinking  it  quite  likely  she  had  taken  a  notion 
to  explore  outside  of  the  building,  he  found  his  hat  and 


THE   TUNNEL    AT    THE    GOLDEN   DEEP.  183 

went  out.  No  Mabel  was  there.  At  last  Nellie's  voice 
called  from  a  small  broken  window,  "I  think  Mrs. 
Willis  has  found  her  now.  I  hear  a  commotion,  such 
as  there  would  likely  be;  so  you  had  better  come  in. 
I  would  like  so  much  to  have  you  show  me  that  fungi  on 
the  trap-door  of  the  shaft."  But  just  then  Nellie  was 
called  away  by  an  impatient  voice,  so  Edward  was  left 
alone  to  loiter  about  in  the  shadow  of  the  old  mill,  busy 
with  his  thronging  memories.  This  had  been  a  thought 
ful  day  for  him,  —  a  long  review  of  the  vanished  past. 
He  had  talked  with  Nellie  and  had  shown  her  about, 
but  he  had  scarcely  heard  her;  his  mind  was  crowded 
with  other  thoughts,  —  the  scenes  of  his  youth,  in 
which  even  Nellie  herself,  then  lithe  little  Nellie,  de 
ceitful  and  wilful,  with  her  long  auburn  braid  and  her 
trim  little  figure,  appeared. 

Over  on  a  hillside  west  of  the  mill  was  an  old  tunnel, 
and  though  he  had  seen  it  often  since  the  closing  of 
the  mine,  he  still  felt  a  curiosity  to  look  again  into  its 
dark,  dripping  cavern.  It  was  but  a  short  distance 
through  the  hot  sun  to  the  refuge  of  the  pines  on  a  cool 
bank,  and  he  walked  quickly  till  he  reached  the  shade, 
and  then  strolled  along  dreamily  through  the  delicious, 
cool,  damp  scents  till  he  arrived  at  the  tunnel. 

The  bright  sunlight  dazzled  his  eyes,  so  he  hesi 
tated  a  few  moments  at  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel  to 
accustom  them  to  the  darkness  before  venturing  in. 
First  there  appeared  to  his  sight  the  arched,  swollen 
timbers  covered  with  magnificent  fungi,  propping  up 
like  huge  ribs  the  crumbling  walls  till  they  were  swal 
lowed  in  the  blackness  far  into  the  hill.  The  water, 
which  in  winter  and  spring  constantly  dripped  from 


184  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

overhead  and  formed  a  stream  in  the  bottom  of  the 
tunnel,  had  now  ceased,  leaving  only  a  mouldy  moist 
ure  seeping  through  the  walls,  and  making  the  filmy 
webs,  which  the  spiders  had  woven  in  damp  and  dark 
ness  on  the  jutting  rocks,  sag  down  into  tiny  fairy 
hammocks  with  the  weight  of  shimmering  dew.  Far 
ther  and  farther  he  could  see  into  the  darkness,  as  he 
stepped  slowly  from  stone  to  stone  on  the  wet  ground, 
where  iris-hued  ripples  danced  and  darkled  in  the 
agitated  pools,  and  cast  great  rings  of  pale  gold  reflec 
tion  over  the  roof  and  walls,  radiating  swiftly  out  into 
unknown  blackness  before  him.  He  paused  to  pick 
off  a  piece  of  loose  rock  from  the  side  of  the  tunnel  and 
examine  it  in  the  dim  twilight;  it  was  a  bit  of  quartz 
with  a  crystal  point,  and  covered  with  a  mixture  of 
black  mould  and  reddish  soil.  He  tossed  it  away,  and 
heard  its  short,  clear  splash  as  it  sank  into  the  water; 
but  he  was  sorry  afterward,  for  hiau«examination  had 
been  too  hasty.  "I'll  go  farther  in  and  find  another 
piece,"  he  thought,  as  he  prepared  his  match-safe  for 
immediate  use.  But  when  he  looked  up  again,  there 
in  the  centre  of  that  narrowing  tunnel,  framed  by  the 
ivory  arches  and  the  soft,  gold  flying  rings,  he  saw  a 
dainty  figure,  clad  in  white,  outlined  with  supernat 
ural  brightness  against  the  deep,  dark  background. 

Something  like  a  tremor  ran  through  him  as  he  saw 
it,  appearing  as  if  by  magic  to  his  startled  vision,  but 
in  a  moment  he  recovered  himself  and  made  sure  that 
it  was  no  spirit  enshrouded  with  mystery  haunting  this 
underground  retreat,  but  a  creature  of  flesh  and  blood, 
—  even  Mabel  Willis.  "  I  find  you  in  rather  a  strange 
place,  Miss  Willis,"  he  called,  with  an  effort  to  hide 


THE   TUNNEL   AT   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP.  185 

his  surprise:  but  his  voice  sounded  strained  and  hollow, 
and  echoed  faint  and  far  into  the  unsounded  depths 
beyond. 

Mabel's  heart  was  beating  rapidly.  What  would 
Nellie  say  if  she  could  see  them  there?  In  such  a 
dark  and  ghostly  place  we  are  strangely  attracted 
toward  our  fellow-beings;  and  so  Mabel,  frightened  with 
the  unusual  surroundings,  instinctively  looked  to  Ed 
ward  with  a  sense  of  dependence  that  found  in  him 
support.  She  forgot  the  cold  reserve  she  had  assumed 
toward  this  man  from  a  feeling  of  honor  to  Nellie. 

"  So  you  do,"  she  replied,  trying  to  appear  natural, 
but  succeeding  no  better  than  Edward.  "  I  find  you 
in  a  strange  place,  too,  Mr.  Dennett.  I  hardly  know 
how  to  explain  why  I  came  here,  except  that,  wander 
ing  along  the  hillside,  I  saw  this  dark  tunnel,  and  ven 
tured  in  farther  and  farther  to  see  the  iridescent 
ripples  on  the  water,  until  you  find  me  here.  It  is 
magnificent,  but  terrible,  too,"  she  continued,  drawing 
a  little  closer  to  him  as  if  even  afraid  of  the  golden  re 
flections  on  the  walls.  He  was  about  to  say  something, 
when  Mabel  started  suddenly,  and  gave  a  faint  scream 
that  went  shrieking  away  into  the  hollow  voids,  in 
weird,  palpitating  whispers,  and  she  stood  rooted  to  the 
ground,  her  eyes  fixed  on  a  coiled  snake,  striped  with 
pale  yellow  and  dull  black  lines,  which  were  fast 
changing  to  brilliant  hues  of  orange  and  red,  and 
bright,  satiny  black,  in  its  anger.  He  stepped  forward 
to  lead  her  quickly  out,  but  her  fright  had  driven  her 
almost  to  desperation,  and  she  caught  his  shoulder  and 
fell  half  fainting  into  his  arms.  There  was  just  a  mo 
ment  when  he  unconsciously  gave  himself  up  to  the 


186  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

great  wave  of  rapture  that  swept  over  him  when  he  felt 
her  clinging  arms,  and  her  quick  breath  on  his  cheek, 
and  then  he  was  hurrying  from  stone  to  stone,  almost 
carrying  her  in  his  strong  clasp.  When  they  were  out 
near  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel,  where  the  full,  strong 
light  of  day  shone  in  upon  them,  it  revealed  Mabel, 
pale  and  trembling,  her  white  dress  speckled  with  spat 
ters  of  mud,  and  little  ragged,  dew-gemmed  pieces  of 
spider-webs  in  her  glossy  hair;  and  Edward,  whose 
face  was  flushed,  and  whose  eyes  beamed  with  a  soft 
and  far  more  tender  light  than  ever  before.  It  was 
useless  now  to  resist.  That  clinging  trust,  that  de 
pendent  innocence,  had  won  his  heart.  The  serpent, 
whose  primal  curse  has  made  it  the  most  loathsome 
and  despised  of  creatures,  had  in  this  one  instance 
been  instrumental  for  good,  thougli  not  through  its  own 
merit.  Mabel  was  no  longer  a  proud  and  stately  wo 
man,  but  a  girl  with  all  the  delightful  qualities  she 
had  seemed  at  first  to  possess,  and  added  to  them, 
that  charm  the  absence  of  which  would  render  all  the 
others  nearly  worthless,  —  a  loving,  trustful  nature.  As 
he  led  her  out  of  the  tunnel  into  a  little  grove  of  pines 
and  firs,  and  seated  her  on  a  fallen  log,  the  magic  of 
that  gentle  touch  was  still  upon  him.  It  had  brought 
with  it  a  spell;  had  opened  the  fountain  of  her  heart, 
and  revealed  therein  a  multitude  of  trembling  hopes 
and  fears.  He  remembered  how  Nellie  had  rested  her 
hand  confidingly  on  his  arm  only  the  night  before  in 
the  moonlit  veranda.  The  memory  of  it  brought  a 
feeling  almost  of  disgust.  How  insipid  seemed  her 
animated,  artful  presence  now!  He  cast  off  all  doubts 
concerning  his  duty  to  Nellie,  knowing  full  well  his 


THE    TUNNEL    AT    THE    GOLDEN    DEEP.  187 

thoughts  and  motives  with  regard  to  her  could  weigh 
but  little  against  this  new  feeling  which  had  come  over 
him,  and  from  that  moment  he  never  regarded  Nellie 
as  capable  of  possessing  woman's  choicest  gift,  —  a  true 
and  noble  love. 

He  was  not  a  man  to  be  a  laggard  in  such  affairs 
when  once  his  heart  was  deeply  touched.  The  fire  and 
enthusiasm  of  his  youth  awoke  him  suddenly  to  the 
realization  of  this  new  impulse,  and  his  impatient 
spirit  longed  to  be  up  and  doing. 

As  he  sat  half  reclining  on  a  gray  rock  looking  at 
his  fair  companion,  that  weird  excitement  he  had  felt 
in  the  tunnel  still  controlled  him,  and  he  said,  forget 
ful  of  time  and  place,  thinking  only  of  this  new-found 
delight,  "  Miss  Willis,  if  you  and  your  friends  will  come 
down  into  the  mill  to-morrow  after  the  noon  whistle 
blows,  I  will  show  you  the  thing  for  which  all  these 
mighty  pits  were  made.  It  was  cleaning-up  day  yester 
day,  and  our  wonderful  quartz  vein  has  yielded  equal 
to  its  best  record.  Do  not  disappoint  me,"  he  said, 
more  softly  than  at  first.  "  It  would  cheer  the  whole 
of  my  day  to  have  you  come." 

Mabel's  dark  eyes  glanced  up  in  astonishment. 
There  was  something  in  his  tone  that  made  the  words 
significant,  a  smouldering  fire  in  his  eyes,  which  always 
had  been  so  frank  and  tender,  that  lighted  up,  like  the 
breaking  of  the  morning,  his  whole  face. 

"  O,  I  should  so  much  like  to  see  the  gold;  I  will  cer 
tainly  come,"  she  said  simply. 

As  they  arose  to  go,  and  she  daintily  gathered  up  her 
dress  to  pass  over  a  ledge  of  quartz  that  cropped  out  of 
the  bank,  Edward  took  her  hand  to  help  her  over,  and 


188  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

kept  it  in  spite  of  her  gentle  efforts  to  draw  it  away  as 
they  walked  to  the  mill,  leading  her  carefully  among 
the  rocks  and  red  mounds  of  earth  to  the  great  wide 
door. 

Just  as  they  were  entering,  an  apparition  in  the  shape 
of  a  human  head,  with  glorious  eyes,  a  handsome  face, 
and  dark  curling  hair,  rose  up  out  of  one  of  the  shallow 
prospect-holes,  and  George's  smooth  voice  called,  "Ah! 
How  long  has  this  been  going  on?  I  have  been  wonder 
ing  what  was  the  reason  of  the  ominous  absence  of  all 
wit  and  beauty  from  the  company.  Miss  Willis,  I 
wanted  you  to  see  Mr.  Sevenoakes  test  the  old  pumps, 
and  he  has  been  for  a  long  time  about  the  work.  Ned, 
you  'd  better  surrender  her  here  instead  of  taking  her 
back  to  the  mill,  as  we  shall  miss  seeing  it  if  we  lose 
any  more  time." 

Edward  stopped  a  moment  to  say,  "I  never  surrender, 
—  especially  when  I'm  not  given  a  sufficient  reason 
why  I  should";  and  then  resumed  his  way. 

George  sprang  up  out  of  the  prospect-hole,  and  ad 
vancing  a  few  steps,  said,  with  a  good  deal  of  assurance, 
as  if  his  dignity  had  been  affronted,  "  Excuse  me,  but 
I  think  Miss  Willis  will  go  with  me." 

Edward  stopped  again,  and  looked  around  as  if 
awaiting  her  decision.  It  was  a  trying  moment  for 
Mabel.  Here  suddenly  she  was  forced  to  choose  be 
tween  the  man  who  had  paid  her  open  attention  and 
the  man  who  had  shown  her  only  politeness  and  gen 
tlemanly  consideration.  They  both  seemed  worthy  of 
her  friendship;  and  she  dreaded  to  offend  either.  Then 
she  remembered  that  George  had  spoken  before  of 
taking  her  to  see  the  pumps,  though  she  had  stolen 


THE   TUNNEL   AT   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP.  189 

away  to  the  tunnel  to  escape  from  going  with  him. 
She  did  not  dare  to  look  up,  but  she  knew  that  Ed 
ward's  earnest  blue  eyes  were  resting  upon  her.  Her 
heart  had  decided  the  question  long  before,  why  should 
she  hesitate  now?  She  turned  to  George,  "Come  into 
the  mill  in  a  few  minutes,  and  then  I  will  go." 

As  they  walked  away,  George  muttered  between  his 
teeth,  while  his  eyes  —  those  same  eyes  that  could 
beam  so  tenderly  with  looks  of  love  —  flashed  fires  of 
anger,  "  He  shall  pay  for  that  before  many  days;  and 
if  he  steals  Mabel  from  me,  or  even  attempts  to,  he 
shall  suffer  all  I  choose  to  make  him." 

Mabel  waited  in  the  mill,  but  George  did  not  come 
to  claim  her,  until  at  last  Edward  said,  ignoring  the 
circumstance  completely,  "  Come,  let  us  find  Nellie, 
and  go  to  see  how  the  old  pumps  used  to  work." 

But  George  thought  it  best  not  to  remain  away  from 
the  scene  of  action  too  long  and  give  his  rival  the  start, 
so  he  strolled  up  to  the  little  group  as  they  watched  the 
working  of  the  husky,  dry  pumps,  and  resumed  his 
friendliness  with  Mabel,  even  trying  to  draw  her  away 
from  Edward  and  Nellie;  but  she  proved  to  be  a  young 
lady  with  a  will  of  her  own,  and  would  not  go. 

On  their  homeward  ride  George  improved  well  his 
opportunity  to  be  agreeable,  and  spoke  lightly  of  the 
occurrence  which  had  displeased  her.  "  Miss  Willis," 
he  said,  "  I  could  not  very  well  come  into  the  mill  for 
you  to-day  without  offending  your  friend  Mr.  Den 
nett";  to  which  Mabel  replied,  as  if  wholly  unmind 
ful  of  the  slight,  "  Pray,  do  not  think  of  it.  And  I,  of 
course,  could  not  at  first  go  with  you  to  see  the  pumps, 
for  the  same  reason." 


190  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

That  evening  the  miners  were  to  celebrate  the  Fourth 
with  powder  and  rockets,  in  the  absence  of  better  pyro 
technics.  They  chose  an  open  space  out  in  front  of 
the  hotel  for  their  operations,  and  as  twilight  drew  on, 
and  the  winds  began  to  stir  and  moan  in  the  pine 
woods,  and  the  stars  to  pierce  with  their  diamond- 
pointed  rays  the  dusky  skies,  the  guests  of  the  hotel 
gathered  on  the  balcony  to  enjoy  the  entertainment. 

Up  the  white  road  from  the  mill  came  two  figures, — 
Edward  and  George.  A  swift  blush  spread  over  Mabel's 
cheek  as  she  saw  them  and  remembered  the  events  of 
the  day.  She  could  not  feel  exactly  easy  in  her  mind 
about  it;  but  what  delight  it  had  been  to  her  to  choose 
as  she  had!  Ah!  that  was  what  troubled  her,  —  the 
thought  that  she  had  no  right  to  feel  this  happiness  if 
she  stood  in  Nellie's  way. 

The  two  came  rapidly  up  the  broad,  sweeping  road, 
George  carelessly  graceful,  with  his  fine-scented  cigar 
that  gleamed  brilliantly  in  the  fading  twilight,  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  array  of  airy  muslins  on  the  bal 
cony  above;  and  Edward,  erect  and  manly,  moving 
with  a  quick,  firm  step,  and  looking  far  out  across  the 
clear-cut  ranges  to  the  pale  gold  of  the  after-glow  in 
the  horizon.  But  he  too  glanced  up  as  they  neared 
the  balcony,  and  Mabel  saw  his  fine  eyes,  touching  up 
with  an  expression  of  tenderness  the  strength  that  was 
revealed  in  his  face.  How  incomparably  more  noble 
he  looked  than  his  companion!  —  though  Mrs.  Seven- 
oakes  remarked  to  Nellie  almost  simultaneously  with 
the  thought,  after  the  two  men  had  disappeared  under 
the  balcony,  "  That  young  Mr.  Brooklyn,  the  assayer, 
is  certainly  a  very  fine-looking  man.  He  has  an  indif 
ferent  air  about  him  that  is  peculiarly  fascinating." 


THE    TUNNEL    AT    THE    GOLDEN   DEEP.  101 

"0  yes,"  Nellie  replied,  leaning  back  lazily  and  ad 
justing  her  black  grenadine  so  it  would  float  out  more 
beautifully  over  Mabel's  fresh  white  dress;  "  George  is 
rather  nice-looking,  but  he  is  not  exactly  the  type  I 
admire  most.  I  like  plenty  of  strength  in  man." 

"And  plenty  of  strength  in  your  lemonade,  too,  I'll 
warrant,"  said  George,  coming  through  the  long  French 
windows  behind  her,  breathless  from  his  hasty  ascent 
of  the  stairs.  "  Mr.  Sevenoakes  has  some,  ice-cold,  in 
the  hall,  with  the  pure  crystals  of  the  summits  in  it. 
But  he  says  no  gentleman  can  procure  it  for  a  lady. 
The  girls  must  come  themselves.  That 's  his  dodge, 
you  see,  to  get  a  look  at  the  pretty  ones." 

"  Come,"  said  Mrs.  Sevenoakes,  by  way  of  invitation, 
and  rising  to  go.  "  We  will  surely  have  to  comply 
with  those  requirements  if  we  get  any.  And  let  us 
hurry  before  the  ice  melts;  it  seems  as  if  it  might  dis 
solve  in  a  moment  on  a  night  like  this." 

"Owell;  who  would  n't  be  looked  upon  for  a  glass 
of  lemonade  in  such  a  season?"  said  Nellie,  following 
Mrs.  Sevenoakes. 

"  I  thought  I  said  that  our  worthy  superintendent 
only  wanted  to  look  at  the  pretty  ones,"  remarked 
George,  sarcastically,  as  Nellie's  trim  dark  figure  van 
ished  through  the  door;  and  he  took  the  vacant  seat  by 
Mabel.  "Don't  you  intend  to  go,  when  you  could  fill 
the  requirement  so  easily,  Miss  Willis?" 

"  No;  I  have  already  had  some,  thank  you." 

"  Some  what?  Admiration?  I  've  no  doubt  of  that. 
But  you  do  not  need  to  go  away  from  here  to  be  ad 
mired,  I  can  assure  you.  I  '11  see  no  fireworks  to-night 
if  you  are  in  sight." 


192  AROUND    THE    GOLDEN    DEEP. 

"  I  can  assure  you  if  you  look  at  the  fireworks  you 
will  spend  your  time  far  more  profitably  to  yourself," 
answered  Mabel,  with  annoyance  in  her  tone  which  she 
could  not  conceal.  He  had  committed  an  unpardon 
able  offence  by  slighting  her  publicly  in  a  fit  of  tem 
per,  and  she  had  concluded  that  his  friendship  was  not 
worth  keeping. 

Edward  Dennett  came  through  the  French  windows 
at  that  moment,  and  finding  a  vacant  chair,  placed  it 
behind  Mabel,  and  took  his  seat  there,  as  if  he  intended 
to  remain. 

"  Come  around  here,  Ned,"  said  George,  shaking  a 
chair  beside  him;  "here's  an  empty  place  in  the  front 
row." 

"  I  shall  get  along  very  well  where  I  am,  thank  you. 
Those  places  belong  to  the  ladies,  I  believe." 

Nellie  and  Mrs.  Sevenoakes  came  back  at  this  junc 
ture,  and  George,  suddenly  remembering  that  he  had 
usurped  another's  seat,  rose,  and  with  a  majestic  bow 
offered  to  give  it  back.  "No,  I  'm  going  to  sit  over  at 
the  farther  end  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sevenoakes,  for  the 
present  at  least,"  Nellie  said.  She  appreciated  George's 
influence  in  the  position  he  already  occupied  too  well 
to  wish  to  disturb  him.  But  it  was  useless.  Mabel 
had  wounded  his  vanity  more  keenly  than  any  woman 
had  ever  done  before;  and  though  reluctant  to  give  up 
the  pleasure  of  the  evening  to  the  silence  of  injured  in 
nocence,  still  he  resolved  to  try  the  effect  of  it  for  a 
while.  So  he  remained  quiet,  and  at  length  appeared 
very  indifferently  to  enter  into  conversation  with  Mrs. 
Dennett.  His  experiment  proved  that  he  was  perfectly 
welcome  to  follow  such  a  course  the  whole  evening, 
which  in  fact  he  was  compelled  to  do. 


THE   TUNNEL   AT   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP.  193 

Edward  sat  quietly  thinking  of  Mabel.  Unconscious 
as  he  had  been  of  the  feeling,  he  realized  now  that  this 
new  affection,  springing  up  in  his  heart,  had  been  rooted 
there  long  before,  though  he  had  allowed  it  no  sunshine 
or  cultivation.  He  remembered  how  he  used  to  look 
for  her  pretty  face  in  the  dining-room,  on  the  veranda, 
or  in  the  pine  grove  at  twilight;  he  remembered  how 
her  clear  eyes  had  haunted  him  through  the  long  days 
at  the  noisy  mill,  bringing  him  a  vague  delight;  and 
he  had  thought  what  a  pity  she  should  be  a  worldly 
woman  going  about  in  the  guise  of  an  angel.  At  last 
he  leaned  over  Mabel's  chair  and  said,  ''Are  you  tired, 
Miss  Willis,  after  our  day  at  the  mill?" 

"Not  tired  now,"  said  Mabel.  "I  had  such  a  long 
rest  after  dinner  that  I  feel  as  lively  as  ever.  We  are 
to  dance  for  a  few  hours  after  the  fireworks,  I  think, 
though  Aunt  Cynthia  has  warned  me  that  I  need  not 
expect  to  stay  up  for  it." 

"  Well,  the  fireworks  ought  to  be  our  best  enjoyment 
on  a  day  like  this,  for  they  serve  to  keep  glowing  our 
enthusiasm  for  our  country." 

"Yes;  and  to  me  this  celebration  will  be  peculiarly 
interesting,  because  I  see  it  against  a  background  of 
wild  mountains  and  unthinned  forests,  where  I  scarcely 
hoped  to  find  such  a  spirit  of  patriotism." 

"Oh!  then  you  think  that  because  we  live  aivay  on 
the  heights  of  isolation  we  are  not  creatures  imbued 
with  human  feelings,  but  simply  an  outgrowth  of  our 
lonely  habitation,  with  none  of  the  impulses  that  gov 
ern  the  outside  world." 

"  Not  exactly  that;  but  it  is  true,  we  seem  to  be  on 
the  frontier  of  a  strange  country.  There  is  a  restful 


194  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

quiet  here.  Before  I  came,  I  never  even  dreamed  there 
could  be  such  a  spot  on  earth,  but  I  am  very  happy 
to  have  found  it,  and  so  it  is  not  strange  that  I  should 
think  these  people  would  be  content  to  let  the  world  go 
by,  free  from  its  struggles  and  ambitions,  secure  in  their 
blue-domed  fort  built  in  the  rocky  hills." 

"  You  are  right.  It  seems  a  pity  that  there  cannot 
be  such  a  place  to  serve  as  a  refuge  for  those  who  have 
grown  weary  of  worldly  clashings.  But  the  truth  is, 
mankind  love  to  be  slaves  of  this  arbitrary  power,  and 
they  carry  it  with  them  to  the  remotest  corners  of  the 
globe.  We  have  it  here,  Miss  Willis;  for  it  has  pene 
trated  nature's  fastnesses  wherever  civilized  man  plants 
the  symbols  of  his  coming.  We  leave  to  barbarians 
the  sweet  freedom  for  which  the  heart  so  often  longs. 
Would  you  forgive  me  if  I  told  you  at  first  I  thought 
you  a  being  of  cold  and  stately  dignity,  who  banked  up 
the  fires  of  feeling  until  they  sank  deep  beneath  tho 
barriers  of  circumstance  and  reason?  I  believe  I  have 
learned  better." 

"  O,  surely  you  misjudged  me.  I  feel  that  I  am  too 
much  a  child  of  feeling.  And  yet  I  hope  that  I  seldom 
overstep  the  bounds  of  wisdom  or  the  promptings  of 
my  conscience." 

"  Do  not  fear;  you  are  not  likely  to  do  either.  I  love 
to  see  the  most  sacred  impulses  of  our  natures  given 
the  swaying  power  instead  of  the  colder,  more  material 
desires  that  promise  only  temporal  good." 

"  O  yes;  but  even  then  there  is  another  extreme 
which  goes  to  the  length  of  sacrificing  everything  to  a 
mere  idea.  Nellie  explains  that  to  me  so  often  that  I 
ought  not  to  forget  it." 


THE  TUNNEL  AT   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP.  195 

"  Nellie  looks  on  the  worldly  side.  You  should  not 
listen  to  her  when  she  talks  so." 

Mabel's  eyes  flashed,  and  she  drew  away.  "  You 
forget  that  you  owe  something  to  Nellie  more  than  to 
others,  and  you  should  not  say  that." 

"  I  remember  that  I  owe  her  my  friendship,  which 
she  has,  and  nothing  more,  and  that  is  in  no  way  in 
compatible  with  what  I  have  said." 

"  So  Nellie  has  been  deceiving  me,"  Mabel  thought; 
but  she  made  no  explanation  of  her  words,  that  she 
might  so  far  shield  her  friend's  honor. 

After  this  they  sat  in  silence  and  watched  the  crim 
son  rockets  cleave  the  skies,  quenching  the  splendor  of 
the  stars,  and  throwing  a  lurid  glare  as  they  ascended 
over  the  black-stemmed  pines  and  their  glistening 
branches,  until  the  heavy-loaded  stage  rolled  up  to 
warn  them  that  the  hour  was  growing  late,  and  so  dis 
solved  the  spell. 


196  ABOUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

THE   ESTRANGEMENT. 

O  you  that  have  the  charge  of  love, 

Keep  him  in  rosy  bondage  bound, 
As  in  the  fields  of  bliss  above 

He  sits  with  flow'rets  fettered  round. 
Loose  not  a  tie  that  round  him  clings, 
Nor  ever  let  him  use  his  wings,  — 
Like  that  celestial  bird  whose  nest 

Is  found  beneath  far  Eastern  skies, 
Whose  wings,  though  radiant  when  at  rest, 

Lose  all  their  glory  when  he  flies. 

MOORE. 

IF  Love  would  always  be  love,  he  would  then  be  com 
paratively  harmless;  but  when  he  puts  on  his  war-paint 
and  goes  to  war,  he  is  stronger  than  a  thousand  braves. 
And  he  was  on  the  war-path  now  at  this  little  mining 
camp  among  the  hills;  so  thus  it  came  about  that 
society  there  was  in  a  ferment. 

George  was  disappointed  in  not  winning  the  golden 
prize  which  he  had  hoped  to  obtain;  he  was  enraged 
at  being  slighted  by  Mabel;  his  vanity,  that  precious 
plant  which  grew  so  rank  yet  was  so  delicate,  had  been 
wounded  almost  past  healing  by  Edward  Dennett's 
success.  His  love  of  conquest  was  most  absolutely 
and  constantly  discouraged  by  Mabel;  his  compliments 
failed  signally,  his  love-glances  were  never  seen,  and 
his  attentions  were  steadily  unsuccessful.  It  nettled 
him  to  see  Mabel's  eyes  shine  brighter  at  the  sound  of 


THE   ESTRANGEMENT.  197 

Edward's  footstep;  and  so  when  Mr.  Knowles,  already 
in  a  state  bordering  on  desperation,  sought  his  friend 
ship,  and  hinted  that  Edward  held  too  good  a  place  for 
a  "  man  who  was  willing  to  usurp  the  rights  of  every 
one  else,  and  should  be  put  aside,"  George  was  of  the 
same  opinion. 

"  The  mine  is  going  down  a  little  these  last  weeks, 
and  does  not  need  so  many  workmen.  Dennett's  place 
could  be  easily  filled  by  some  one  else,  under  you"  said 
Knowles,  his  hollow  eyes  burning  with  a  hungry  fire. 

"O  well.  What  can  /  do?"  said  George,  impa 
tiently. 

"All  you  want  to  do.  You  know  Sevcnoakes  has 
greater  faith  in  you  now  than  in  Dennett." 

"  Ha,  ha  !  Sevenoakes  knows  where  his  bread  is 
buttered."  Nevertheless,  these  seeds  were  not  planted 
in  sterile  soil. 

One  evening,  as  the  whistle  blew  for  six,  George  ap 
peared  in  the  laboratory  door  while  Edward  was  still  be 
low  in  the  shaft,  and  said  very  sociably  to  the  workmen, 
"Come  around  to  my  den,  boys, — the  outside  door, — 
if  you  want  to  see  something  wonderful."  Accordingly, 
a  horde  of  rough,  ignorant  fellows  filed  around  the  cor 
ner  of  the  mill  and  ranged  themselves  before  the  door, 
when  George  invited  them  in  with  a  conciliatory  air, 
and  proceeded  to  show  them  some  very  rich  specimens 
of  quartz,  and  also  his  method  of  separating  the  quick 
silver  from  the  gold  that  had  been  taken  from  the  mill. 
Edward,  coming  up  out  of  the  mine,  looked  into  the 
deserted  machinery-room  to  see  if  things  were  all  right, 
and  then  passed  out  and  locked  the  door.  Going  round 
to  the  laboratory,  he  saw  George's  guests  gathered  like 


198  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

a  pack  of  hungry  tramps  in  the  little  room,  but  he  took 
no  notice  of  them, — passing  through  to  secure  the  door 
that  opened  into  the  machinery-room,  and  putting  the 
key  into  his  pocket,  he  said  a  hasty  good  night,  and 
was  gone. 

George  looked  up  with  a  scornful  smile,  and  seeing 
it  reflected  from  the  grimy  faces  around  him,  said, 
"Dennett  has  to  come  sneaking  around  to  see  what 
we  're  doing.  I  presume  he  likes  to  show  his  authority 
about  as  well  as  a  Walla  chief.  Though  it's  not  his 
affair  what  I  do  in  here,  boys.  I  'm  not  in  his  books. 
In  fact,  Sevenoakes  and  I  manage  this  thing  without 
dictation  from  any  one." 

This  was  met  by  murmurs  of  approval  from  all  sides. 
Ignorant  man  is  turned  like  a  leaf  in  the  wind,  even 
against  his  benefactor,  when  managed  by  a  superior 
who  understands  his  weaknesses;  and  so,  thus  encour 
aged,  one  burly  young  fellow,  ready  always  to  lead, 
tossing  his  cigarette  out  of  the  window  in  his  excite 
ment,  and  spitting  on  the  floor,' — which  last  act  caused 
the  dainty  George  to  wince  slightly,  —  said,  "That's 
right,  I  'm  glad  somebody  is  out  of  his  reach.  He 's  too 
blamed  pertic'ler,  anyway.  He  watches  around  just 
as  if  we  were  thieves  a-tryin'  to  rob  the  amalgamator  or 
sluices." 

"  What  makes  you  stand  it?  "  asked  George. 

"  Have  to.  He  don't  do  nothing  to  make  a  row 
about;  but  it 's  just  them  mean,  picayunish  little  things 
that  makes  a  feller  mad." 

"  Well,  stand  up  for  your  rights,  then.  Sevenoakes 
don't  want  anybody  here  abused,  even  about  little 
things,"  said  George,  rising  to  go.  The  foul  tobacco 
was  rather  too  much  for  him. 


THE   ESTRANGEMENT.  199 

The  men  went  away,  feeling  very  mnch  abused  by 
the  restraints  they  were  under  during  work  hours. 
They  were  of  a  rough  class  that  often  drifts  around 
through  the  mining  regions,  always  following  the  last 
exciting  discoveries,  ready,  at  every  fancied  wrong,  to 
stir  up  discord,  and  most  of  them  without  the  ties  of 
home  and  friends  to  restrain  them  from  acts  of  vio 
lence.  They  were  flattered  by  George's  notice  of  them, 
and  felt  that  in  him  they  had  a  powerful  advocate; 
and  so  the  spirit  of  insubordination  was  roused  from 
its  slumbering.  They  were  restless  under  the  disci 
pline  they  were  obliged  to  observe,  and  the  loop-hole 
that  was  now  offered  them  to  escape  from  it  promised 
excitement  at  least  to  their  vulgar  natures. 

George  left  the  mill  that  evening  with  an  increased 
elasticity  in  his  step;  but  he  had  to  dine  alone,  since 
his  little  visit  with  the  "  boys  "  had  made  him  late  for 
dinner.  Afterward  he  sought  the  hotel  balcony,  where 
Mabel  and  Nellie  often  sat.  But  Edward  was  already 
there,  and  he  and  Mabel  stood  by  the  low  white  rail 
ing  looking  off  mto  the  liquid  depths  of  sky  where  the 
sun  had  vanished. 

The  days  that  had  followed  his  awakening  to  the 
dream  of  love  at  the  old  mill  had  been  full  of  delights 
to  Edward.  He  felt  that  after  years  of  loneliness  he 
had  found  what  his  heart  longed  for,  —  a  haven  of  re 
pose,  where  he  could  come  with  his  overladen  spirit  for 
the  comfort  and  the  inspiration  man  so  sorely  needs  to 
prepare  him  for  the  battles  with  the  world,  and  which 
it  is  woman's  highest  mission  to  bestow;  a  friend  that 
he  could  trust,  whose  every  profession  was  made  with 
honesty  and  truth,  whose  heart  was  as  fresh  and  inno- 


200  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN   DEEPT 

cent  as  the  flowers  of  the  field.  He  had  spoken  no 
word  of  love  to  her,  but  many  had  been  their  little 
talks  that  wove  their  hearts  together,  and  Mabel  often 
found  herself  fondly  living  over  again  the  happy 
scenes  in  their  friendship  which  she  loved  to  think  of 
best. 

George  found  them  in  the  midst  of  one  of  those 
pleasant  talks,  but  he  had  no  compunctions  about 
interrupting  it.  "Where 's  all  the  rest  of  the  people?" 
he  inquired. 

Edward  turned.  "They  seem  to  have  chosen  the 
parlors,  or  perhaps  they  are  preparing  for  the  party 
this  evening.  They  are  to  dance,  I  believe,"  he  said. 

"  O  yes;  Knowles  told  me  so,"  George  replied,  turn 
ing  carelessly  to  leave;  but  his  wrath  was  stirred,  and 
his  vindictive  nature  longed  for  revenge  for  this  thing 
that  he  was  forced  to  see  so  often.  Passing  through 
the  French  windows  that  opened  onto  the  balcony, 
he  discovered  Nellie  sitting  alone  in  the  gloomy 
library,  and  watching  through  the  window  the  two 
figures  that  leaned  over  the  railing.  She  started  and 
colored  slightly,  that  faint  pink  which  sometimes  crept 
over  her  white  cheeks,  but  George  did  not  see  it  in  the 
late  twilight.  "You  were  not  very  successful,  —  eh, 
Sir  George?"  she  said,  in  a  tantalizing  tone. 

"  Nor  you  either,  sitting  here  peeking  through  the 
curtains,  —  at  nothing"  he  returned  sullenly. 

"  Say,  George,"  Nellie  said,  coaxingly,  ignoring  his 
last  thrust,  "  there's  no  use  for  you  and  me  to  conceal 
things  and  act  foolishly.  Let  us  work  together.  Some 
body  has  planned  for  dancing  this  evening.  You  are 
to  take  me,  since  Edward  no  doubt  will  only  give  me 


THE   ESTRANGEMENT.  201 

his  arm  and  the  sight  of  his  ear  as  he  talks  to  Mabel. 
Then  we  will  settle  matters." 

"I  '11  ask  Mabel  first  if  she'll  go.  That's  fair,  you 
know;  for  I  don't  think  Ned  intends  to  stay  up  this 
evening.  That  lank  Knowles  came  prowling  around  to 
inform  me  of  this  fact,  which  he  uprooted  somewhere, 
and  that  he  was  to  take  Mabel  himself.  Ha,  ha!  the 
assurance  of  the  long-legged  cur!  That  was  a  hint  for 
me  to  let  him  alone,  for  we  're  in  some  kind  of  a  com 
pact  about  a  little  piece  of  business  th°se  days;  at  least, 
he  's  the  author  and  designer;  I  'm  the  executor  and 
skilful  finisher.  It  will  benefit  you  too,  when  we  suc 
ceed,  —  understand?" 

Nellie  was  looking  up  at  him  through  her  long  dark 
lashes,  with  a  glance  of  deep  inquiry.  She  did  not 
believe  much  in  his  stories,  knowing  that  he  hated  her 
because  of  her  power  over  him.  "  Nonsense!"  she  said; 
"two  men  planning  to  overthrow  a  simple  little 
thing  like  this,  —  by  upsetting  the  foundations  of  the 
whole  structure,  I  suppose!"  She  was  ambitious  for 
Edward's  success,  unless  driven  to  the  last  extremity. 
"  While  you  are  maturing  your  plans,  the  mischief  will 
be  done.  They  are  even  now  talking  sentimental  stuff 
out  there  about  the  '  ancient  trees  glorying  that  they 
still  are  green  and  young/  —  ancient  trees  are  not  the 
only  things  that  do  that,  however.  Come  to  me  to-^ 
night  and  we  '11  settle  it."  And  with  a  quick  glance 
behind  her,  the  slim,  dark  figure  glided  out  of  the 
shadowy  room. 

The  little  talk  on  the  balcony  was  soon  disturbed 
again.  Aunt  Willis  was  the  intruder  this  time.  She 
came  out,  tall  and  majestic,  her  gray  eyes  flinty  -with 


202  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

determination.  "  Mabel,"  she  said  severely,  "  (excuse 
me,  Mr.  Dennett,)  it  is  already  late,  and  you  are  out 
here  without  a  wrap.  You  must  come  in  now."  And 
so  Mabel  went. 

"  See  here,"  said  the  irritated  old  lady  as  they  reached 
their  rooms.  "You  have  done  quite  enough  of  that 
soft  mooning  with  our  new  friend.  He  looks  as  fair 
and  as  noble-hearted  as  a  Saxon,  but  he  's  as  design 
ing  as  a  gypsy.  Do  you  know  what  Nellie  tells  me? 
She  says  that  you,  —  my  niece,  who  ought  to  have  a 
world  of  pride  and  be  as  choice  as  a  queen,  —  that  you 
are  actually  encouraging  that  young  man,  who  no 
doubt  wants  your  money,  if  he  can  get  it.  The  ideal 
You,  out  talking  sentiment  with  a  man  who  works 
in  the  mines,  and  neglecting  Nellie  and  Mr.  Knowles, 
our  old  friends!  See,  Mr.  Knowles  has  sent  you  a  knot 
of  curly  fern  to  wear  to-night,  and  he  has  my  permission 
to  take  you  into  the  ball-room.  We  should  always 
esteem  him,  Mabel;  he  has  been  kind  to  us  in  the  past, 
and  at  least  deserves  our  sympathy  now  in  his  afflic 
tion." 

"Aunt  Cynthia,  do  you  think  I  should  encourage  his 
attentions  when  I  do  not  want  them?  I  have  never  ill 
treated  Mr.  Knowles." 

"  You  have  shown  your  preference  for  a  comparative 
stranger,  to  the  exclusion  of  your  friends." 

"  I  do  prefer  Mr.  Dennett  to  Mr.  Knowles.  I  do  not 
think  Mr.  Knowles  is  a  man  of  good  principles.  Do 
you  want  me  to  even  act  a  falsehood?" 

"  By  no  means.  But  do  not  seek  opportunities  to  air 
your  bad  taste  and  lack  of  appreciation  of  old  friends." 

Mabel  turned  to  the  window.     The  evening  had  lost 


THE    ESTRANGEMENT.  203 

its  brightness,  and  the  dim  night  seemed  shutting  around 
in  fantastic  shadows,  that  mocked  at  her  and  hope;  but 
she  went  with  Knowles,  and  wore  the  curly  ferns,  and 
none  perceived  her  heavy  heart  under  her  assumed 
gayety  and  life. 

That  night  the  ball-room's  many  lights  shone  bril 
liantly  over  the  drooping  flags  that  draped  the  room, 
over  the  graceful  pine  boughs  on  the  walls,  over  the  long, 
shining  floors  that  echoed  to  the  feet  of  the  dancers,  and 
streamed  out  through  the  open  willows  in  mellow  bars 
of  brightness  on  the  deserted  verandas.  Edward  Den 
nett,  coming  up  from  the  mill,  heard  the  delicious  strains 
of  music  that  floated  out  in  little  crashes  of  melody,  and 
saw  lithe  forms  float  past  the  window  in  surprises  of 
blue  arid  white  and  pink,  till  he  was  fairly  dazzled.  As 
he  passed  through  the  hall  to  go  to  his  room,  he  met 
Mr.  Sevenoakes,  radiant  in  evening  dress,  and  with  a 
countenance  that  fairly  shone.  "  Why,  hello,  Den 
nett  ! "  said  the  airy  little  man  in  surprise.  "Are  n't 
you  participating  in  the  pleasure  this  evening?  Come 
along  in  and  help  with  the  lancers.  We  need  some 
body  just  your  size.  Why,  see  here,  I  'm  turning  gray, 
yet  I  manage  to  do  my  share  to  amuse  the  girls." 

"Quite  likely.  But  I  have  to  rise  an  hour  or  so 
earlier  than  you  in  the  morning,  Mr.  Sevenoakes." 

"0,  that 's  nothing,  you  will  feel  all  the  better  for  the 
diversion." 

"  Well,  I  will  indulge,  but  it  is  dangerous  to  begin," 
he  answered.  After  a  time  he  appeared  in  the  ball 
room,  and  found  Mabel  dancing  with  a  dashing  young 
Englishman,  a  friend  of  the  hotel-keeper,  so  he  sat  down 
and  waited  for  the  dance  to  end.  Then  he  sought  her 
as  she  talked  with  her  loquacious  partner. 


204  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"Have  you  a  waltz  left  for  me,  Miss  Willis?"  he 
asked. 

"  Yes,  one  that  I  saved  for  a  rest  you  may  have,"  she 
said;  "but  you  will  have  to  wait." 

"  That  is  nothing,"  he  answered,  as  he  wrote  his  name 
on  her  programme,  adding  mentally  that  he  could  well 
afford  to  wait  with  the  hope  of  such  a  reward.  Then 
he  danced  with  Nellie,  who  seemed  to  have  grown 
very  friendly  to  George,  so  he  resolved  not  to  interfere, 
feeling  well  satisfied  with  the  turn  affairs  had  taken. 

At  last  came  his  waltz  with  Mabel,  and  after  it  he 
asked  her  to  walk  with  him  along  the  veranda  among 
the  sheltering  vines.  She  was  very  lovely  that  night, 
in  a  snowy  India  muslin,  rich  with  embroidery,  and 
the  bunch  of  brownish  green  curly  ferns  and  a  single 
flower  of  deep,  burning  red  on  her  breast.  As  he  looked 
down  upon  the  girlish  face  beside  him,  framed  by  her 
dark,  clustering  hair,  and  dimpled  with  smiles,  and  at 
the  little  trusting  hand  that  rested  on  his  arm,  some 
thing  of  that  old  fascination  he  had  felt  in  the  tunnel 
came  over  him.  Words  that  would  reveal  all  the  ten- 
derest  hopes  of  his  life  rose  to  his  lips  but  found  no 
utterance,  for  his  heart  was  beating  wildly,  and  he 
feared  to  speak  lest  an  ill-chosen  word  should  mar  the 
harmony  of  their  friendship. 

At  last  Mabel  sat  down  by  a  long,  half-opened  win 
dow,  where  the  light  broke  through  and  fell  aslant  on 
her  white  dress,  where  the  music  came  in  dreamy 
throbs,  and  the  warm,  sweet  odors  floated  out  and 
mingled  with  the  cool,  fresh  air  around  them.  She 
made  a  place  for  Edward  beside  her,  and  sat  with  her 
eyes  glistening,  and  a  happy  look  on  her  lovely  face, 


THE    ESTRANGEMENT.  205 

the  soft  curves  of  which  were  dimly  outlined,  like  the 
bright  whiteness  of  a  lily,  in  the  faint  light. 

Now  was  the  supreme  moment.  "  Mabel,"  he  said, 
leaning  forward,  and  looking  into  her  eyes  with  a  new 
and  glorious  tenderness  in  his  own,  "  I  am  going  to 
tell  you  something  to-night  — "  But  familiar  voices 
sounded  near  them,  and  George  and  Nellie  passed  the 
window  and  sat  down  by  it  to  get  a  breath  of  the 
coolness  of  the  night  that  stole  in  through  the  tangling 
vines.  Something  they  were  saying  dissolved,  like  a 
rude  awakening,  the  blissful  mood  that  was  over  him. 
He  could  not  utter  another  word,  but  sat  spellbound, 
like  a  figure  carved  from  marble. 

"  Mr.  Knowles  seems  to  be  a  good  man,"  Nellie  said; 
"and  any  one  can  see  he  is  very  fond  of  Mabel;  but 
she  is  taken  up  just  at  present  with  my  friend  Ed 
ward.  It 's  a  pity,  for  he  is  too  good  and  earnest  to  be 
trifled  with,  and  Mabel  never  for  a  moment  thinks  of 
him.  She  has,  of  course,  an  ambition  to  satisfy,  and 
her  aunt  is  like  unrelenting  stone  in  her  schemes,  so 
that  most  certainly  makes  a  doubly  bad  case  out  of  it." 

"  Yes;  but  Mr.  Knowles  is  not  the  only  other  ad 
mirer  she  has.  You  are  aware,  I  presume,  that  I  con 
sider  myself  on  the  list,  —  of  rejected  ones,  I  fear,  since 
she  does  not  deign  to  come  down  off  her  stilts  to  notice 
me,"  said  George. 

"  O  well,  woman-like,  I  suppose  she  thought  the  best 
conquest  was  where  she  might  possibly  have  a  rival," 
said  Nellie,  with  a  sigh  that  floated  out  through  the 
window,  and  came  back  on  the  gently  stirring  breezes 
in  mournful  sobs.  "  It  is  the  way  of  the  world.  One 
can  cast  aside  another's  bread  of  life." 


20G  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

Edward  had  waited  a  moment  for  Mabel  to  speak 
and  refute  the  words  that  came  so  distinctly  to  them 
both.  It  had  been  a  moment  when  his  heart  was 
stirred  to  its  utmost  feeling.  He  felt  that  she  must 
know  what  he  was  about  to  say,  and  how  impossible  it 
was  for  him  to  proceed  now.  But  she  sat  in  silence, 
without  a  word.  It  was  true,  then,  he  thought,  arid  she 
dared  not  tell  him  it  was  not,  lest  he  would  finish  what 
he  had  commenced  to  say. 

"  Let  us  go  back,"  he  said,  fearing  to  hear  more. 
But  Mabel  shook  her  head  and  did  not  answer.  A 
great  lump  had  risen  in  her  throat,  and  she  could  not 
utter  a  word  for  fear  of  sobbing.  He  paused  a  mo 
ment,  and  then  remarked,  "  I  fear  you  will  be  cold, 
Miss  Willis.  I  think  we  had  better  go  in  now."  His 
voice  sounded  naturally  enough,  and  he  felt  a  vague 
satisfaction,  in  the  face  of  the  deadliest  pain  he  had 
ever  known,  that  he  had  strength  enough  left  to  betray 
no  emotion.  She  had  choked  back  the  rising  flood  of 
feeling  now,  and  she  answered  steadily,  if  not  calmly, 
"I  wish  to  stay  here.  Please  go  and  leave  me";  and 
without  a  word  he  went,  —  not  back  into  the  ball-room, 
but  off  into  the  night,  to  walk  about  the  shadowy, 
lonesome  mill,  and  fight  his  misery-burdened  thoughts. 
It  did  not  seem  possible  to  him  that  Mabel  could  be 
cold  and  heartless  now,  and  yet  she  had  rather  listen 
to  this  talk  they  had  overheard  than  to  assure  a  friend 
of  her  sincerity  and  txuth.  Ah!  this  was  something 
he  could  not  answer,  and  which  stung  him  almost  to 
madness. 

Meanwhile  Mabel  sat  listening  to  his  firm,  departing 
footstep,  while  the  unchecked  tears  splashed  down  upon 


THE    ESTRANGEMENT.  207 

her  snowy  dress,  and  her  thoughts  were  a  chaos  of  re 
grets  and  tumultuous  pain.  What  should  she  have 
said?  She  almost  knew  what  Edward  was  going  to 
say  to  her,  but  he  had  not  said  it.  Could  she  be  the 
first  to  declare  her  feelings  toward  him?  And  then  she 
had  been  so  stunned  by  the  surprise  of  Nellie's  utter 
falseness,  and  no  less  by  Edward's  abrupt  change  of 
manner,  that  her  usual  tact  had  deserted  her  entirely 
and  left  her  overwhelmed.  Presently  some  one  closed 
the  window  behind  her,  and  shut  away  the  melodies 
that  poured  out  through  it;  then  the  chains  clashed  sil 
very  against  the  glass,  and  the  shutters  were  closed  also, 
and  she  was  left  in  darkness  and  silence  out  there  in 
the  vines.  But  welcome,  black  stillness,  for  the  tears 
were  falling  fast  like  rain,  and  a  great  agony  was  strug 
gling  in  her  heart.  Long  she  sat  there  in  the  dense 
shadow,  heeding  not  the  distant  voices  breaking  in 
upon  her  sorrow,  nor  the  chill  night-damp  that  pierced 
into  her  leafy  retreat. 

The  honeysuckles  threw  her  little  wafts  of  perfume, 
and  the  breezes,  that  had  made  a  sigh  seem  like  a  sob 
before,  hovered  about  her  with  tender  caresses,  while 
they  softened  and  stifled  her  sobs,  by  their  musical, 
loving  whispers,  and  their  little  singing  voices  in  the 
vine-leaves. 


208  ABOUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

CHAPTER    XVI. 

THE    STRIKE. 

It  is  the  flash  which  appears;  the  thunderbolt  will  follow.  —  VOL 
TAIRE. 

"  No  smoking  in  here,  sir,"  said  Edward  Dennett,  as 
he  passed  through  the  machinery-room  a  day  or  so  after 
George  had  entertained  the  "  boys,"  and  saw  a  spiral 
cloud  ascending  from  behind  the  great  noisy  mortar 
where  Crane,  the  bushy-headed  leader  of  laboratory 
fame,  was  enjoying  himself  with  a  cigarette.  Coming 
back  again,  Edward  found  the  atmosphere  still  redolent 
with  the  scents  of  tissue  paper  and  tobacco,  and  the  well- 
known  rules  of  the  place,  as  well  as  his  late  reminder, 
unheeded.  His  wrath  was  kindled.  u  Throw  that 
cigarette  away,  and  indulge  in  no  more  smoking  dur 
ing  work  hours!"  he  called  out  rather  forcibly.  The 
fellow  still  sat  on  an  empty  box  with  an  insolent  ex 
pression  on  his  mud-bespattered  face,  but  did  not  move, 
saying  deliberately,  with  his  cigarette  still  between  his 
teeth,  "  When  I  ain't  got  much  to  do,  I  may  as  well 
enjoy  myself  as  the  next  one  a-goin'.  I  ain't  doin' 
nothin'  wrong." 

"  Throw  that  away,  or  I  '11  give  you  something  to  do 
immediately !"  said  Edward,  advancing  with  swift  step. 

The  fellow  rose  and  cast  a  furtive  glance  at  the  work 
men  who  were  closely  watching  proceedings  and  only 
making  a  pretence  of  going  on  with  their  work.  "  I 


THE   STRIKE.  209 

may  give  you  somethin'  to  do  yourself,"  said  he  in  a,  low 
tone,  as  if  afraid  to  utter  the  words  aloud,  but  the  cause 
of  the  dissension  still  remained  in  his  mouth,  scattering 
its  noxious  scent  on  the  air. 

"You  may  consider  your  services  in  this  place  at  an 
end  because  of  disobedience  to  rules,"  said  Edward, 
sternly.  His  courage  in  this  extremity  was  good, 
though  it  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  been  met  with 
open  defiance.  Still  the  man  remained  standing,  and 
did  not  seem  to  notice  what  had  been  said.  "You 
may  go  now!"  said  Edward,  who  stood  apparently  calm 
and  cool,  but  whose  wrath  and  indignation  were  each 
moment  rising  higher.  The  fellow  at  last  walked  away 
down  the  long  room  and  stopped  near  the  door  to  speak 
to  a  fellow-workman,  still  puffing  his  cigarette.  After 
waiting  a  reasonable  time,  Edward  walked  over  to 
where  he  stood  and  requested  him  to  leave. 

"I'm  transactin'  a  little  necessary  business  that  I 
can't  put  off." 

"  Well,  you  shall  put  it  off!  You  are  disturbing  the 
work  here,  as  well  as  continuing  to  violate  our  rules." 

"  O,  I  know  all  about  rules  and  work  here.  We 
understand  what  your  position  is";  and  the  burly 
Crane  turned  his  back,  as  if  ignoring  all  rules  and 
work  in  the  world,  and  went  on  with  his  talk.  A  swift 
flush  swept  over  Edward's  face,  and  his  eyes  flashed. 
He  had  hoped  to  avoid  trouble,  but  he  had  seen  from 
the  first  that  it  was  almost  inevitable,  so  now  he  hesi 
tated  no  longer.  Putting  a  firm  hand  on  the  fellow's 
collar,  he  gave  a  strong  push,  which  sent  cigarette 
and  grimy-faced  smoker  reeling  in  different  directions 
toward  the  door.  Before  the  man  recovered,  Edward 


210  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

had  pushed  him  through  it,  for  although  no  larger  in 
stature,  Edward  was  the  stronger  of  the  two.  There 
was  just  a  moment  before  he  could  succeed  in  getting 
back,  when  the  infuriated  miner  rushed  upon  him  with 
a  glare  like  a  madman,  and  seizing  his  arm,  bit  it  with 
all  the  cruelty  of  a  savage  brute.  Blinded  with  the 
pain,  Edward  dealt  a  blow  on  the  bended  head,  that 
loosened  the  strong  jaws  and  put  an  end  to  the  strife, 
for  the  dazed  Crane  staggered  off  and  showed  no  further 
fight  that  day. 

Edward  stood  a  moment  to  collect  his  thoughts,  and 
then  went  back  into  the  machinery-room,  where  he 
found  the  men  standing  in  excited  little  groups,  and 
talking  in  loud  tones,  but  he  only  said  calmly,  "  Now 
we  will  resume  work,"  and  took  no  further  notice  of 
them.  His  face  was  deathly  pale,  and  his  blue  eyes 
flashed,  but  his  manner  was  slow  and  dignified,  and 
the  men  murmured  their  indignation  from  all  quarters 
when  he  went  out,  because  he  had  taken  the  matter  so 
coolly.  He  walked  to  an  empty  car-shed,  and  sat  down 
for  a  moment  to  fit  himself  to  begin  his  work  again.  He 
looked  at  his  watch, — it  was  five  minutes  past  three. 
Then  he  sat  and  watched  through  the  little  windows 
the  reddish  haze  creep  in  among  the  hills,  and  the  tall 
pines  nod  slowly  and  glisten  in  the  afternoon  sunshine. 
A  horseman  riding  along  a  distant  hillside  at  last  dis 
appeared  in  the  winding  canon  below,  and  a  flock  of 
birds  flying  like  dark  specks  against  the  pale  blue  sky 
drew  near,  and  showed  their  pointed  wings  and  their 
feathery  forms  distinctly.  "  I  must  be  well  rested 
now;  I  've  been  here  nearly  half  an  hour,"  he  thought, 
as  he  pulled  out  his  watch  again,  though  feeling 


THE    STRIKE.  211 

strangely  dizzy  and  sick.  He  had  been  there  just  five 
minutes.  "I'm  excited,"  he  then  thought;  "this  will  be 
a  hard  day";  but  he  remembered  his  unfinished  work, 
and  rose  to  go,  when  something  cold  upon  his  hand 
caused  him  to  look  down,  and  lo!  he  saw  it  was  half 
covered  with  blood.  "The  fellow's  teeth  did  effective 
work  that  time,"  he  said,  as  he  took  off  his  coat,  and 
surveyed  the  wet  crimson  stain  on  his  shirt  sleeve. 
The  flesh  of  his  wrist  was  badly  torn  and  mangled, 
and  yet  in  his  excitement  he  had  felt  no  pain  from  it; 
only  a  strange  dizziness  and  weary  feeling.  How  could 
he  go  through  the  day  with  that  wounded  arm,  and  this 
faint  sickness  in  his  head?  He  was  strong  and  young, 
yet  could  he  bear  it  with  unshrinking  fortitude?  But 
he  bound  the  bleeding  wound  up  tightly  in  his  hand 
kerchief,  put  on  his  coat  again,  and  with  determination 
on  his  face  went  back  to  his  work.  All  through  the 
long  hours  that  followed,  he  bravely  did  his  part,  and 
kept  order  with  a  face  so  calm  that  no  one  even  guessed 
how  he  was  suffering. 

That  night  was  a  restless  one  for  Edward.  A  sense 
of  impending  calamity  impressed  him,  and  fitful  slum 
bers  brought  him  vague  dreams  of  ghastly  forms  and 
fathomless  pits,  till  he  was  glad  when  the  gray  dawn 
broke  and  brought  back  reality,  which  was  sweet  com 
pared  to  that  terrible  night.  As  he  breakfasted,  George 
joined  him  at  the  table,  and  seemed  in  excellent  spirits. 
"Hello,  Ned!"  he  said  pleasantly;  "this  is  just  the 
day  for  cleaning  up.  I  'm  getting  out  of  work.  Why, 
what's  the  matter  with  your  hand?  It's  swelled  and 
purple.  Been  around  in  the  poison-oak,  I  '11  bet,  and 
feel  sorry  enough  now  for  it,"  he  added,  knowing. well 


212  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

the  cause  of  the  wound,  and  feeling  triumphant  and 
heartily  glad  that  he  had  one  revenge  against  his  rival. 

"  No;  some  little  trouble  at  the  mill  yesterday  re 
sulted  in  this  for  me.  I  thought  you  had  heard  about 
it." 

"  O  yes,  so  I  did;  but  I  was  not  aware  that  you  did 
not  come  out  first  best  all  around.  Crane  was  going 
about  last  night  with  a  swelled  head  and  a  woful 
story." 

The  words  were  like  a  stab  to  Edward.  "  There  will 
be  more  trouble  to-day,"  he  thought,  feeling  helpless 
and  disheartened  with  his  wounded  arm;  and  his  coun 
tenance  betrayed  his  unhappy  thoughts.  That  look 
was  a  wonderful  appetizer  to  George,  who  ate  his  break 
fast  with  an  increased  relish,  and  felt  keenly  the 
pleasure  of  being  in  the  ascendency,  and  victorious 
over  one  toward  whom  he  entertained  a  deadly  enmity. 
But  this  was  not  all;  he  was  to  have  better  satisfaction 
than  that  after  a  while. 

u  Got  a  match,  Ned?"  he  inquired,  as  they  rose  to 
go,  taking  a  cigar  from  his  pocket. 

Edward  handed  him  his  match-safe.  "  I  must 
hurry  off,"  he  observed;  "  my  time  is  up." 

"  That 's  so,  and  I  must  see  Sevenoakes,"  returned 
George,  puffing  his  cigar,  and  putting  the  match-safe 
in  his  own  pocket  with  a  grim  smile. 

Edward  entered  the  mill  that  morning  as  the  whistle 
blew,  and  found  the  men  all  in  their  places  and  work 
ing  quietly.  A  sigh  of  relief  escaped  him  as  he  gave 
directions  to  the  man  near  the  door,  who  received  them 
good-naturedly,  and  the  busy  mill  stamped  away,  with 
its  workmen  all  attentive  to  business  and  well  behaved, 


THE   STRIKE.  213 

promising  no  further  annoyance.  He  did  not  hear  the 
loud  laugh  that  followed  his  exit,  and  so  the  autumn 
sunshine  borrowed  a  golden  hue  again,  and  the  falling 
leaves  their  crimson  dyes,  while  the  hills  swept  clear- 
cut  and  bright  in  little  protecting  walls  about  him. 
Surely  the  world  was  not  so  dark  as  it  had  seemed 
to  him  this  morning.  The  pain  and  excitement  of 
yesterday  had  somewhat  disturbed  his  strong,  cour 
ageous  spirit,  and  had  brought  him  groundless  fears 
and  unrest.  Coming  up  out  of  the  shaft,  the  clear  cool 
air  revived  him  again,  his  recent  troubles  lost  their 
grave  importance,  and  his  dismal  forebodings  vanished. 
He  entered  the  mill  with  renewed  trust  in  his  work 
men,  and  renewed  courage.  Passing  through  the  long 
room,  he  examined  the  riffles  and  the  sluice-boxes,  and 
was  ordering  fresh  ore  into  the  huge,  crunching  jaws 
of  the  crusher,  when  he  caught  sight  of  Crane's  head, 
appearing  behind  the  mortar,  bushy  and  unkempt  as 
usual,  but  some  of  its  expansiveness  compressed  into  a 
smaller  space  by  a  wide  white  cloth  that  hinted  strongly 
of  liniment  and  vinegar. 

"  See  here,"  said  the  indignant  manager;  "  you  were 
told  to  leave  this  mill  yesterday.  What  do  you  mean 
by  presenting  yourself  here  again?  " 

"  I  was  told  to  leave  this  here  establishment,  but  I 
was  also  told  to  come  back." 

"  Who  told  you  to  come  back?  " 

"  Sevenoakes,"  —  deliberately  spoken,  with  a  sneer 
and  a  triumphant  smile,  after  a  slight  pause,  which 
was  intended  and  served  well  to  give  the  fellow's  word 
greater  emphasis. 

A  change  passed  over  Edward's  face.     It  was  not 


214  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

a  look  of  suppressed  and  baffled  rage,  nor  of  forced 
concession,  but  an  expression  of  unflinching  anger. 
"  Sevenoakes!  "  he  repeated.  "And  /  now  tell  you  that 
you  cannot  remain." 

""We'll  see  about  that,"  said  Crane,  turning  to  his 
work  with  exasperating  coolness,  as  if  ready,  for  his 
part,  to  dismiss  the  matter  for  the  time. 

Edward  took  a  step  forward  and  stood  before  him. 
His  manner  was  calmer  now,  but  even  more  deter 
mined  than  before.  "  Must  you  have  a  repetition  of 
yesterday's  scene?"  he  asked.  Crane  evidently  did 
not  like  the  idea  of  it,  for  he  softened  somewhat,  though 
looking  around  the  room  suggestively,  as  if  expecting 
help  in  a  crisis. 

"  Now,  looky  here,  we  might  as  well  come  to  terms," 
he  said.  "  Sevenoakes  sent  me  back,  and  promised  us 
that  we  don't  have  to  submit  to  no  kind  of  tyranny  at 
all.  Sevenoakes  is  a  man,  by  thunder!  Now,  we  don't 
none  of  us  want  to  do  nothin'  to  you.  You  just  go 
along  and  behave,  and  we  '11  all  do  our  work,  and  minj 
our  own  business  too.  But  if  you  go  to  makin'  a  mud 
dle,  and  if  Sevenoakes  goes  back  on  us,  we  've  all  de 
cided  on  a  course  of  action  that'll  mighty  soon  bring 
you  both  back  to  terms.  We  've  stood  it  long  enough, 
—  so  long  that  we  did  n't  know  enough  to  help  ourselves 
until  somebody  tol'  us  how  it  looked  to  be  kicked 
aroun'.  We  've  been  blamed  fools  not  to  stick  up  for 
our  rights  before;  but  you  ken  bet  we  're  a-goin'  to  do  it 
now,  by  thunder,  every  last  one  of  us!  I'm  here  by 
order  of  Sevenoakes,  and.  here  I  stay  !  " 

"  I  will  wait  just  long  enough  to  explain  that  you  can 
come  here  by  no  one's  order  except  mine.  Mr.  Seven- 


THE    STRIKE.  215 

oakes  has  no  authority  to  send  you  here  except  through 
me.  He  has  given  me  entire  control,  and  cannot  inter 
fere  in  the  least  without  revoking  my  authority.  And 
so  you  may  as  well  consider  yourself  here  without  right, 
and  leave  the  mill.  I  will  settle  the  matter  with  Mr. 
Sevenoakes  afterward;  hut  in  the  mean  time,  and  while 
I  remain  here,  I  will  recognize  no  one's  right  to  inter 
fere  with  my  work,  or  dictate  to  my  workmen.  That 
is  all  you  need  to  understand  about  it.  You  already 
know  that  I  have  told  you  to  leave  the  place." 

Edward's  last  words  died  away  in  resonant,  clear 
echoes  in  the  hollow,  arched  roof  above  them.  The  mill 
Lad  ceased  its  heavy  stamping,  the  wheels  were  motion 
less,  and  the  broad  belts  trembled  and  swayed  a  little, 
but  showed  their  seams  distinctly  where  a  few  minutes 
before  the  white  stitches  had  blended  indistinguishably 
in  the  flying  lines  of  brown.  The  workmen  had  all  left 
their  duties,  and  stood  around  in  little  groups  intently 
watching  the  affair,  but  making  no  comment  upon  it  to 
each  other,  as  if  their  course  of  action  had  been  previ 
ously  planned.  There  was  a  pause.  No  one  stirred, 
and  no  sound  was  heard  except  the  clear  splashing  of 
the  stream  from  the  water-pipes  into  the  mortar,  and 
the  low  gurgle  as  it  rippled  away  through  the  long 
Bluices. 

Then  the  door  opened  suddenly,  letting  in  a  flood  of 
pale  golden  sunshine  across  the  floor,  and  Mr.  Seven 
oakes  stood  on  the  threshold.  His  face  wore  its  usual 
bright  expression,  and  his  manner  was  as  airy  and  con 
ciliatory  as  ever,  though  he  took  in  the  whole  scene  at 
a  glance,  and  knew  that  serious  trouble  was  brewing. 
He  did  not  affect  ignorance,  yet  he  was  somewhat  taken 


216  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

back  at  this  turn  of  affairs.  That  little  round  head, 
which  shone  as  glossily  in  the  broad  sheet  of  morning 
sunshine  as  the  tall  black  beaver  upon  it,  had  knowl 
edge  of  human  nature  too  deep  for  such  a  course. 
"Good  morning,  Mr.  Dennett,"  he  said  carelessly.  "No 
steam  on  to-day,  I  see.  I  meant  to  see  you  the  first 
thing  this  morning;  so  I  came  down  to  let  you  know 
before  going  to  my  office."  And  he  took  out  a  bunch 
of  keys,  every  one  of  which  was  as  neat  and  bright  as 
the  little  man  who  held  them. 

"Would  it  incommode  you  much  to  come  now?  I 
can  easily  see  it  would  be  more  satisfactory  to  you  in 
the  end  ";  and  he  glanced  significantly  around  as  if  he 
understood  perfectly  the  meaning  of  the  idle  mill. 

Edward  faced  the  little  man  squarely.  There  was 
an  expression  of  determination  and  firm  resolve  in  his 
face  that  was  not  lost  on  the  attentive  workmen  around 
him,  and  it  caused  a  momentary  sensation.  Not  a  few 
of  the  waiting  miners  hoped  for  a  collision,  and  yet 
until  this  juncture  they  had  scarcely  looked  for  it, 
knowing  well  that  Edward  Dennett  would  not  take  an 
unfair  advantage  through  physical  means,  even  when 
his  adversary  had  availed  himself  of  as  mean  a  one 
in  other  respects,  and  deserved  to  be  punished  for  it. 
"  First,"  he  said,  "  I  wish  you  to  decide,  before  I  attend 
to  any  other  business  in  connection  with  this  work, 
whether  or  not  I  am  to  be  subjected  to  the  annoyance 
and  inconvenience  of  having  some  one  interfere  with 
my  management;  I  cannot  consent — ' 

"O  well,  come  up  into  my  office  and  we  will  have 
a  talk,"  interrupted  the  superintendent. 

"A  talk  is  unnecessary,  Mr.  Sevenoakes.     I  want  a 


THE    STRIKE.  217 

distinct  understanding  right  here  before  these  work 
men;  it  requires  no  talk  to  arrange  that.  I  absolutely 
refuse  to  continue  work  without  it, — I  absolutely  refuse 
to  accept  any  settlement  that  does  not  clearly  and 
unequivocally  and  publicly  define  my  position  to  be 
what  it  was  at  first." 

Mr.  Sevenoakes  was  surprised.  He  could  not  quite 
understand  this  young  man's  straightforward  dispo 
sition.  Most  decidedly  this  was  not  what  the  little 
shuttle  would  have  done.  He  did  not  quite  like  to 
have  any  one  take  so  firm  a  stand,  although  he  him 
self  was  as  set  in  his  notions  as  Edward.  He  usually 
accomplished  his  ends  by  swaying  back  and  forth, 
compromising,  arranging,  or  conceding,  and  yielding 
up  everything  except  the  main  object  in  view.  But  he 
decided  to  try  the  power  of  his  oily  tongue  before  con 
senting  to  Edward's  terms.  He  could  pretend  he  had 
interests  at  stake  if  everything  else  failed.  "  O  yes,  we 
will  fix  everything  right,  of  course;  and  it  shall  be 
arranged  where  you  wish.  If  you  insist  on  having  the 
thing  done  here,  then  here  it  will  be.  But,  Mr.  Dennett, 
you  will  surely  listen  to  reason.  You  do  not  wish  to 
expose  all  our  business  relations;  but  they  certainly 
will  be  made  public  if  you  require  an  unconditional 
settlement  immediately.  I  have  something  to  say  to 
you  that  is  quite  indispensable  to  a  satisfactory  con 
clusion  of  the  matter.  I  have  rights,  too,  Mr.  Den 
nett.  And  so  I  will  ask  you  as  a  gentleman  to  postpone 
this  open  adjustment,  and  consent  to  a  few  minutes' 
private  conversation.  It  need  not  alter  your  position 
in  the  least.  We  will  return  here  under  the  same  con 
ditions  after  our  talk,  if  you  wish  it." 


218  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

Edward  felt  that  if  it  could  do  no  harm  nor  alter  his 
position  he  might  as  well  grant  the  importunate  little 
man  the  interview,  so  he  followed  him  out  of  the  door, 
and  the  two  men  started  up  the  slope  to  the  office. 

The  men  left  in  the  mill  disposed  of  themselves, 
with  as  much  comfort  as  possible,  on  empty  boxes  and 
against  slanting  timbers.  Crane  looked  after  the  two 
men  for  a  minute,  and  then  unconsciously  feeling  of  his 
sore  head,  turned  to  his  companions  and  said:  "  Seven- 
oakes  is  a-goin'  to  threaten  him  and  bring  him  to  terms, 
by  golly!  He's  mighty  independent,  and  he  will  get 
kicked  out  if  he  ain't  pretty  durn  careful,  you  ken  bet 
yer  boots!  Yer  see,  Sevenoakes  don't  dare  to  do  it 
right  here.  Dennett  would  give  him  the  durndcst 
lickin'  he  ever  took  if  he  did."  And  in  this  solution 
of  the  matter  the  rest  acquiesced,  and  each  man  felt 
himself  very  smart  and  very  important,  and  took  a 
profound  delight  in  looking  at  the  idle  wheels  around 
him.  As  for  Crane,  he  expanded  into  the  most  dis 
tinguished,  liberal-minded  man  in  the  place;  he  was 
working  a  thorough  revolution  in  affairs,  he  was  a  bril 
liant  example  to  his  fellows,  and  he  was  emancipating 
them  from  their  former  oppression,  and  had  caused 
this  important  break  in  the  monotonous  round  of  busi 
ness.  Calmly  he  sat  and  awaited  the  issue,  seeming 
quite  content  to  beguile  away  the  time  with  a  cigarette 
and  the  thought  that  he  had  solid  backing  in  a  com 
bination  that  could  prevail  against  both  manager  and 
superintendent  together. 

Mr.  Sevenoakes  unlocked  his  office  door  with  some 
misgivings.  This  young  man  he  had  undertaken  to 
subdue  was  a  very  determined  one.  It  was  doubtful 


THE    STRIKE.  219 

which  would  come  out  victorious,  and  the  thought  of 
defeat  was  not  the  most  pleasant  to  his  precious  little 
vanity. 

"  Take  a  chair,  Mr.  Dennett,"  he  said,  with  his  cus 
tomary  cordiality,  while  he  raised  the  green  curtain 
and  helped  himself  to  a  comfortable  seat.  "  Now,  the 
truth  of  this  business  we  are  to  talk  over  is  this:  I 
heard  about  some  little  fuss  at  the  mill  yesterday, 
which  of  itself,  of  course,  don't  amount  to  that ";  and 
he  emphasized  his  speech  with  a  very  graceful  snap  of 
his  white  fingers. 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Edward,  "  it  does  amount  to 
something  more.  I  Ve  got  a  disabled  arm  for  it,  sir." 

"  0,  indeed,  have  you  ?  I  did  n't  know  that.  How 
did  you  come  by  it  ?  " 

"  The  fellow,  who  resisted  until  he  had  to  be  forcibly 
ejected,  used  his  teeth  with  some  effect,"  said  the 
younger  man,  showing  his  purple  wrist. 

"  Well,  well,  that 's  bad.  As  I  was  going  to  say, 
these  mill  hands  are  violent  fellows.  They  resort  to 
forcible  measures  to  get  satisfaction  for  everything.  In 
reality,  we  are  somewhat  in  their  power.  If  the  whole 
lot  should  resist  us,  then  of  course  we  would  be  without 
remedy,  and  would  have  to  give  in  on  their  terms. 
The  matter  came  to  me  last  night  through  Brooklyn. 
He  understands  pretty  clearly  the  state  of  feeling 
among  the  men,  and  advised  me  as  to  the  best  course 
to  pursue.  It  seems  this  Crane,  who  caused  the  trouble, 
went  around  exciting  sympathy  by  his  lame  jaw,  and 
stirring  up  dissension  and  no  little  excitement.  The 
only  thing  we  could  do  under  the  circumstances  was 
to  set  him  to  work  again,  and  give  his  idle  hands  some- 


220  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP 

thing  to  do,  for  he  was  bent  on  creating  mischief,  and 
threatening  things  he  had  the  power  to  accomplish.  I 
meant  to  see  you  the  first  thing  this  morning,  but  with 
my  usual  luck  I  overslept.  It  seems  now  to  be  far 
more  wise  to  use  conciliatory  measures,  and  allow  the 
men  a  little  freedom,  so  that  they  will  imagine  they  are 
having  their  own  way,  and  feel  better  satisfied.  Don't 
you  agree?"  and  the  neat-clothed,  sleek  little  personage 
faced  the  magnificent  man  before  him  with  a  face  so 
beaming  and  full  of  enthusiasm  that  he  felt  he  had 
already  won  the  day.  However,  it  only  required  a  mo 
ment  for  him  to  discover  his  error. 

"  I  do  not  agree,"  answered  Edward,  calmly  but  de 
cidedly.  "  It  is  true,  we  have  not  been  through  all  the 
experience  of  a  long-established  company,  and  yet  we 
have  been  at  work  for  some  time, — long  enough  to  dis 
cover  the  best  methods  of  conducting  the  business.  A 
little  freedom  to  such  men  as  the  mill  hands  would 
utterly  destroy  all  control  over  them;  they  would  be 
come  overbearing  and  quarrelsome  to  such  an  extent 
that  they  could  not  by  any  possibility  be  managed. 
Our  rules  are  in  no  way  oppressive;  the  men  are  well 
treated  and  not  overworked.  To  utterly  merge  all 
restraint  and  regulation  into  each  man's  individual 
whims  or  ideas  would  result  in  complete  anarchy  and 
confusion.  However,  I  have  no  objection,  if  you  wish 
to  try  the  experiment.  My  own  personal  opinion  will 
by  no  means  interfere  with  your  success  in  it.  But  I 
do  have  the  most  strenuous  objections  if  you  wish  to 
control  in  any  degree  my  workmen  except  with  my 
knowledge.  I  will  not  submit  to  it,  sir.  I  should  be 
entirely  helpless  to  accomplish  anything  either  for  you 


THE   STRIKE.  221 

or  myself.  And  I  will  not  undertake  the  matter.  I 
may  as  well  tell  you  plainly  that  I  do  not  think  you 
had  the  right  to  send  back  a  discharged  workman  with 
out  consulting  me,  whatever  may  have  been  your  rea 
sons;  and  I  absolutely  refuse  to  continue  in  the  employ 
of  this  company  in  my  present  capacity  unless  the  men 
distinctly  understand  there  is  no  appeal  to  any  higher 
authority  against  me.  You  have  ample  means  of  ascer 
taining  my  methods  of  conducting  affairs,  and  of  judg 
ing  whether  I  am  a  proper  person  to  be  intrusted  with 
the  authority  bestowed  upon  me.  If  at  any  time  you 
are  dissatisfied,  or  see  cause  to  interfere  with  my  man 
agement,  I  claim  the  right  to  be  personally  notified  of 
it,  and  to  have  the  opportunity  either  to  defend  myself, 
or  at  least  to  understand  what  is  required  of  me." 

Mr.  Sevrenoakes  was  uneasy.  He  did  not  like  this 
plain  talk.  If  Edward  had  used  a  little  polite  flattery, 
and  had  made  some  pretence  of  docility,  he  would  have 
yielded  much  more  readily.  As  it  was,  he  was  angry, 
though  he  controlled  himself  so  well  that  Edward 
noticed  no  sign  of  it,  except  that  the  words  slipped 
along  his  oily  tongue  more  glibly  than  usual. 

<:  You  do  not  understand  me,  Mr.  Dennett,"  he  said. 
"  Nothing  has  been  done  without  consulting  you.  I 
meant  to  explain  about  Crane  the  first  thing  this 
morning.  It  is  not  my  intention  to  cramp  your  pow 
ers  in  any  way;  but  we  may  as  well  take  counsel  as  to 
tha  best  mode  of  taming  down  these  men  when  they 
get  restless.  Now  we  will  go  back  to  the  mill  and  tell 
Crane  that  he  can  stay  if  he  behaves  himself  hereafter, 
and  I  guess  he  will  be  glad  enough  to  do  it.  And  in 
other  ways  we  will  use  conciliatory  measures  until  the 


222  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

hands  are  somewhat  mollified,  and  are  content  to  go  on 
with  their  business,  and  fight  about  their  cards  instead 
of  their  work." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  Mr.  Sevenoakes.  The  men  do 
not  have  to  find  something  to  fight  about.  They  are 
peaceable  when  a  proper  restraint  is  put  upon  them. 
The  miners  here  are  ignorant  fellows,  most  of  them, 
and  love  to  feel  a  little  power,  but  they  are  insubordi 
nate  to  an  exasperating  degree  if  they  are  not  held 
to  strict  obedience.  These  fellows  are  unlike  other 
workmen;  they  are  accustomed  to  an  atmosphere  of 
excitement  and  violence,  and  they  are  ever  ready  for 
a  chance  to  exercise  their  belligerent  proclivities.  In 
other  fields  of  labor  the  workmen  can  be  allowed  free 
dom  and  privileges,  and  they  receive  them  with  gen 
tlemanly  appreciation,  while  they  never  seek  to  take 
unfair  advantage.  The  only  way  to  keep  peace  here 
is  to  give  the  hands  no  opportunity  to  fight.  I  shall 
not  consent  to  keep  Crane  in  the  mill,  if  I  remain, — 
not  because  of  any  stubborn  will,  but  because  I  realize 
fully  that  by  doing  so  I  shall  lose  all  control  over  the 
men,  and  be  powerless  to  accomplish  any  work  or 
keep  up  a  uniform  system  of  labor." 

The  superintendent  felt  it  useless  to  argue,  but  still 
he  did  not  give  up  without  a  stormy  discussion.  He 
did  not  mention  to  Edward  that  George  had  given 
him  something  more  than  a  cigar  the  evening  before. 
That  young  man  was  quite  expert  at  giving  hints. 
There  had  been  a  long  talk,  with  frequent  mention 
of  Edward  on  George's  part,  —  and  they  were  not 
the  most  complimentary,  —  and  some  strong  sugges 
tions  thrown  out  that  frightened  the  little  superintend- 


THE    STRIKE  223 

ent  considerably.  Tie  entertained  a  warm  friendship 
for  George,  and  confidence  in  his  opinions,  yet  lie  felt 
himself  helpless  to  continue  the  work  without  Edward. 
However,  he  resolved  to  rid  himself  of  that  indepen 
dent  fellow,  represented  as  domineering  and  unnecessa 
rily  severe,  as  soon  as  he  was  able. 

Finally,  however,  Mr.  Sevenoakes  was  compelled  to 
yield  in  order  to  retain  Edward.  The  two  went  back 
to  the  mill,  but  the  superintendent  was  as  bright  and 
as  cheerful  as  ever,  and  the  mill  hands  could  not  de 
tect  any  sign  that  showed  how  indignant  he  really  was. 

"  I  did  not  quite  understand  this  case,"  he  said  to 
the  men  in  his  usual  good-natured  tone;  "it  was  mis 
represented  to  me,  but  I  see  it  differently  now.  Crane 
will  have  to  settle  with  Mr.  Dennett  if  he  wishes  to  re 
main  in  the  mill.  I  am  sure  everything  can  be  fixed 
all  right,  though.  I  do  not  wish  any  one  to  bring  his 
grievances  to  me  hereafter,  unless  they  are  of  a  very 
serious  nature.  Then  I  will  give  you  a  hearing,  and 
decide  it  in  the  presence  of  Mr.  Dennett.  Such  differ 
ences  will  never  arise  if  each  one  does  faithfully  the 
work  required  of  him,  and  attends  to  his  own  affairs. 
I  wish  you  all  success  and  good  morning";  and  the 
little  man  was  gone  as  suddenly  as  he  had  come. 

"  Now  we  will  start  up  the  mill,"  said  Edward  to  his 
men.  "  Crane,  you  have  just  heard  that  your  indorse 
ment  from  outside  sources  cannot  avail  here.  I  will 
not  permit  you  to  remain,  unless  you  apologize  for 
your  past  conduct." 

Crane  passed  his  hand  through  his  bushy  hair,  or  at 
least  so  much  of  it  as  was  not  bound  down  tightly  with 
the  white  cloth,  and  by  this  act  was  unpleasantly  re 
minded  of  his  late  conflict. 


224  AROUND    THE    GOLDEN    DEEP. 

"  I  'd  like  to  sec  myself  apolcrgize  to  you,"  he  said, 
with  a  sneer.  "  There  's  other  ways  I  ken  use  to  git 
back  here  when  you  yersclf  are  kicked  out.  I  ken 
let  yer  know  afore  long  who's  who";  and  the  slouch 
ing  figure  of  Crane  disappeared  where  a  few  minutes 
before  Mr.  Sevenoakes's  trim  black  coat  had  caught 
on  its  velvety,  dustless  surface  the  rnys  of  the  autumn 
sun. 

"You  can  give  us  some  steam  now,"  said  Edward, 
pleasantly,  turning  to  the  engineer. 

"  You  ken  give  it  to  yerself,  fur  all  me,"  he  returned, 
insolently.  "  We  don't  none  of  us  intend  to  do  another 
lick  o'  work  until  you  take  back  our  pardner,  and  ex 
press  yerself  sorry  fur  the  way  you  Jve  been  actin'.  Do 
you  hear  what  we  say?  That's  what  we're  a-goin'  to 
do  right  from  the  word  Go."  The  men  moved  close 
together,  some  took  their  coats  and  hats,  and  they  all 
started  to  the  door.  Before  opening  it,  the  engineer 
turned  and  called  out,  "Will  yer  give  in  now?  We'll 
all  come  back  an'  pitch  in  if  yer  promise  to  have  no 
more  o'  yer  tyranny  a-goin'  on." 

Edward  turned  indignantly  away.  He  realized  that 
some  evil  influence  was  at  work  against  him,  and  that 
the  men  had  been  encouraged  to  acts  of  resistance.  This 
he  felt  was  the  last  day  of  his  rule  in  the  busy  quartz- 
mill,  and  yet  he  knew  that  if  Mr.  Sevenoakes  would 
have  patience  and  allow  him  to  pursue  his  own  course, 
work  would  soon  be  progressing  as  finely  as  before,  and 
the  men  would  have  something  to  remember  which 
would  deter  them  from  any  similar  behavior  in  the 
future.  A  calm  waiting  for  them  to  come  back,  while 
ignoring  their  conduct  and  finding  recruits  to  fill  the 


THE   STRIKE.  225 

vacant  places,  would  soon  accomplish  what  neither 
conciliatory  measures  nor  open  warfare  could  do. 

Mr.  Sevenoakes  from  his  office  window  saw  the  small 
army  sally  out  of  the  wide  door  and  start  off  toward  the 
little  town.  "  Dennett  is  satisfied  now,  I  hope,"  he  said 
to  himself.  "  He  has  proved  his  experiment,  and  will 
be  willing  to  try  mine  when  the  mischief  is  done";  and 
he  scowled  so  darkly  that  the  little  clock,  so  like  him 
self,  seemed  to  grow  less  bright,  and  tick  as  busily  as 
the  little  man's  thoughts.  He  did  not  realize  that  his 
open  friendship  for  George  Brooklyn  had  greatly  fur 
thered  the  latter's  secret  plots. 

Edward  stood  alone  in  the  deserted  mill.  Here  day 
after  day  he  had  seen  the  busy  wheels  buzz  round  and 
had  listened  to  the  noisy,  restless  stamps;  here  he  had 
seen  pictures  of  Mabel's  sweet  face  in  the  mirrors  of  the 
bubbling  waters  and  above  the  white  gravel  in  the  drip 
ping  sluices;  here  he  had  felt  an  innocent,  almost  boy 
ish  pride  in  this  the  first  realization  of  his  ambition 
and  his  hopes;  and  here  he  had  gained  little  victories 
that  were  inseparably  associated  with  every  nook  and 
corner  of  the  quiet  place.  It  was  all  over, — all  a  wreck 
now;  he  had  nothing  to  cling  to,  nothing  to  comfort 
him.  But  he  still  had  hope  for  the  future,  and  strength 
to  fight  his  way;  he  still  had  a  conscience  free  and 
guiltless,  and  his  own  upright  soul  to  keep  him  com 
pany; — so  he  was  not  altogether  alone  in  the  deserted 
mill. 


228  ABOUND  THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

THE    GHOST   IN   THE    ROSE   ARBOR. 
The  guilty  is  he  who  meditates  a  crime.  — ALFIEKI. 

EDWARD  DENNETT  went  to  the  superintendent's  office 
for  the  second  time  that  day,  but  with  his  convictions 
unaltered.  Mr.  Sevcnoakes  expected  to  see  him  willing 
to  admit  his  error,  and  express  himself  ready  to  adopt 
almost  any  method  of  settlement.  Instead,  he  main 
tained  that  the  affair  would  work  itself  out  all  right  if 
no  notice  were  taken  of  the  men.  "  Mr.  Sevenoakes," 
he  said,  with  much  decision,  "I  offer  to  surrender  my 
position  willingly  to  any  one  who  wishes  to  submit  to 
the  terms  presented.  For  my  own  part,  I  cannot  re 
gret  the  extreme  to  which  my  course  has  led,  knowing 
full  well  that  any  other  course  would  involve  like  com 
plications  and  harsh  measures  in  the  end.  Let  me  go, 
or  give  me  power  to  restore  order,  as  I  believe  it  can  be 
accomplished." 

Mr.  Sevenoakes  was  burning  with  anger.  u  There  is 
the  mill  idle,"  he  thought,  "with  loads  of  ore  above 
surface  waiting  to  be  crushed,  and  yet  this  supreme 
donkey  advocates  delay.  We  will  have  to  work  night 
and  day  for  a  week  to  catch  up  if  we  do  as  he  proposes, 
and  George  maintains  that  the  men  will  never  yield  at 
all."  Yet  he  would  not  trust  himself  to  speak.  He 
wanted  time  to  investigate  and  think  it  over. 

"Well,  give  me  a  chance  to  consider,"  he  replied. 
"  Let  the  matter  stand  till  to-morrow.  I  will  see  you 


THE    GHOST    IN    THE    ROSE    ARBOR.  227 

then,  and  we  will  arrange  it  finally.  To-morrow  morn 
ing  I  will  be  down  at  the  mill,  and  then  perhaps  we 
will  think  best  to  call  up  the  men  with  the  whistle,  and 
threaten  them, — or  something.  Let  it  go  till  then." 

Edward  felt  content  to  wait.  He  had  a  strong  hope 
that  Mr.  Sevcnoakes  would  change  his  mind  and  agree 
cheerfully  to  the  inconvenience  that  was  inevitable. 
He  was  even  grateful  for  the  rest,  for  his  wounded  arm 
was  painful,  and  his  wakeful  night  had  left  him  weary 
and  faint.  A  part  of  the  day  he  spent  at  the  mill,  and 
in  the  afternoon  he  rode  out  to  his  mother's. — because 
he  expected  sympathy  in  his  trouble,  and  because  his 
heart  longed  for  the  things  he  loved  best,  and  needed 
new  inspiration.  Of  Mabel  he  had  not  dared  to  think. 
He  had  tried  to  put  her  out  of  his  thoughts  and  forget 
her;  he  had  tried  to  call  her  a  memory,  and  nothing 
more;  but  sometimes  when  they  met,  her  gentle  face 
spoke  to  him  of  her  truth  and  sincerity,  and  made  him 
forget  that  he  had  found  her  to  be  trifling  and  frivo 
lous. 

Still  he  avoided  her,  and  they  had  never  met  alone 
since  that  night  when  they  parted  so  unhappily  in  the 
veranda.  Nellie  rejoiced  that  her  scheme  had  been 
successful  in  part  at  least.  She  waited  for  the  time 
when  Edward  would  have  forgotten  his  fancy,  and 
then  she  herself  would  comfort  him  and  teach  his 
heart  to  love  her.  She  could  wait.  She  understood 
Edward  perfectly  when  he  grew  impatient  while  she 
spoke  of  the  follies  and  ambitions  that  cast  aside  the 
costliest  pearls  of  life  for  the  sake  of  the  vain  frivolities. 
She  knew  that  his  heart  had  received  a  deadly  thrust. 
It  needed  no  second  wound.  He  was  thinking  of 


228        -  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN    DEEP. 

Mabel's  heartlessness  and  her  ambition.  He  would  not 
geek  to  win  an  empty,  soulless  happiness  from  her. 

Dark  as  life  seemed  to  Edward  this  day,  he  felt  that 
his  troubles  at  the  mill  were  by  no  means  the  greatest 
he  had  to  bear.  Let  his  heart  but  feel  the  bliss  and  the 
hope  it  had  once  known,  grant  him  but  the  encourage 
ment  and  comfort  of  a  changeless  love,  and  he  was  strong 
to  face  this  misfortune  with  a  calm  and  trustful  spirit. 
But  these  golden  times  were  over  for  him,  he  thought. 
In  an  hour  when  his  heart  was  unguarded,  he  had  sur 
rendered  its  most  sacred  treasures  to  a  careless  hand. 
He  must  bear  the  consequences  as  best  he  could. 

The  next  morning  the  sun  rose  behind  a  vail  of  dim 
gray  cloud,  and  cast  a  mystic,  faded  splendor  over  the 
gleaming  line  of  snowy  peaks  whitening  in  the  eastern 
horizon,  and  dulled  the  rich,  deep  blue  of  the  distant 
mountain  folds.  The  winds  sighed  with  a  new  dis 
quietude  through  the  wild  oats,  and  moaned  in  the 
tossing  branches  with  a  tearless  sorrow.  Nellie  awoke 
with  her  busy  mind  full  of  plans,  and  began  early  in 
the  day  to  execute  them.  She  had  a  short  interview 
with  George,  and  then  sought  Mabel,  who  was  busy  in 
her  own  room  arranging  a  mass  of  crimson,  yellow,  and 
shaded  russet-brown  leaves  between  the  pages  of  an  old 
book.  The  two  girls  had  been  slightly  estranged  since 
that  evening  which  Mabel  had  cause  to  remember  so 
well.  She  could  not  trust  herself  to  speak  of  it,  yet 
she  believed  that  Nellie  had  done  her  that  wrong 
knowingly  and  wilfully. 

"  0,  Mab,"  said  Nellie,  enthusiastically,  slipping  into 
the  room.  "  Put  up  your  dry  leaves  and  all  your  non 
sense,  and  listen  to  a  real  something.  —  none  of  your 


THE    GHOST    IN    THE    ROSE    ARBOR.  229 

old  pressed  atoms  and  relics  of  the  past  in  this.  That 
strike  in  the  mill  has  made  plenty  of  leisure  for  busy 
hands,  and  a  glorious  opportunity  for  us.  George 
Brooklyn  has  invited  us  to  ride  with  him  over  to  see 
the  cave  on  the  mountain-side,  and  the  strange  pictures 
on  the  rock-wall  made  by  the  water  stains.  This  is  our 
last  chance,  I  know,  for  your  aunt  threatens  every  day 
to  make  us  go  home  by  next  stage.  I  would  n't  miss  it 
for  anything.  We've  been  here  the  whole  summer, 
and  yet  have  never  seen  the  most  interesting  sight  in 
these  old  hills.  Why,  I  remember  years  ago  that  I 
was  perfectly  delighted  with  the  cave,  and  I  was  famil 
iar  enough  surely  with  the  grandeur  of  nature  here.  My 
horrible  enemy,  the  poison-oak,  is  chilled  and  paralyzed 
now,  —  leaves  loose,  and  turning  yellow,  and  red-tipped 
with  coming  death,  —  and  I  can  go  in  safety  and  com 
fort.  Really,  we  will  have  a  most  charming  ride 
through  the  autumn  woods." 

"  But,  Nellie,  I  do  not  think  —  "  began  Mabel. 

"  You  do  not  think  you  can  stay,  I  know.  It  is  set 
tled.  Your  aunt  says  yes  to  the  proposition";  and 
Nellie  glided  away  to  tell  George  he  must  have  the 
horses  ready  early  in  the  afternoon. 

Mabel  did  not  want  to  go.  But  she  had  almost  given 
up  the  hope  that  Edward  would  ever  forgive  her  for  her 
silence.  What  mattered  it,  then,  where  she  went?  or 
whether  the  woods  were  brown  and  naked,  or  gorgeous 
with  frost-painted  leaves  and  bronze-green  mosses?  All 
life  had  lost  its  beauty  and  sunshine. 

They  rode  away  in  the  early  afternoon,  but  before 
they  had  proceeded  far,  Nellie's  horse  obstinately  ran 
under  a  tree  and  tore  her  hat  into  a  crownless  mass  of 


230  AKOUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

straw.  "I  must  go  back,"  she  said;  "I  would  n't  for 
anything  go  to  the  cave  with  such  a  head-gear";  and  no 
persuasions  were  of  any  avail  to  induce  her  to  continue 
on  her  way.  But  when  Mabel  expressed  her  intention 
to  return  also,  Nellie  grew  suddenly  very  unselfish, 
and  insisted  on  having  the  others  go  to  the  cave,  and 
bring  back  a  good  report  of  it  to  compensate  her  for 
her  disappointment.  Finding  these  arguments  useless, 
she  finally  promised  to  get  another  hat  and  overtake 
them  if  they  would  ride  along  slowly. 

She  took  good  care  not  to  overtake  them,  however. 
After  a  short  gallop  along  the  road  where  George  and 
Mabel  had  disappeared,  she  returned  to  the  hotel  and 
watched  for  a  glimpse  of  Edward.  It  scarcely  mattered 
much,  however,  for  her  plans  were  working  in  another 
direction.  "  He  will  surely  see  them  as  they  return, 
and  think  that  Mabel  has  already  forgotten  him,"  she 
thought.  "  Then  he  will  be  anxious  to  show  that  he 
too  can  forget,  and  will  come  to  me.  And  when  he 
does,  /  will  never  let  him  go" 

Nellie  spent  her  afternoon  indolently  in  her  parlor, 
writing  letters,  and  dozing  catlike  on  her  soft-cushioned 
loungs.  The  hours  wore  along  in  unbroken  quiet,  but 
the  stillness  was  at  length  disturbed  by  a  musical  yet 
excited  voice  rising  from  the  corridors  below.  Then 
came  a  rush  and  a  rustle  up  the  stairs,  toward  Nellie's 
door,  which  finally  opened,  revealing  Nita,  sparkling  in 
her  jetted  grenadine,  with  large,  dilated  eyes,  and  deep, 
burning  color,  standing  on  the  threshold.  u  0, 1  thought 
it  was  something  like  you, — nothing  else  but  a  hur 
ricane  would  come  rushing  around  like  that,"  called 
Nellie's  voice  lazily  from  the  lounge. 


THE   GHOST   IN   THE    ROSE    ARBOR.  231 

"I  wish  I  was  a  hurricane!"  cried  Nita,  coming  into 
the  room.  ''I'd  tear  you  to  pieces!  You  are  the 
-woman  who  watched  me  in  the  pine  woods,  and  met 
me  so  brazenly  to  show  me  that  you  knew  my  secret. 
What  care  I?  Nothing,  because  you  know  it.  You 
have  no  more  meetings  to  watch  now,  I  suppose  you 
know.  He  will  not  come  for  fear  you  will  be  angry. 
But  you  shall  not  use  your  knowledge  to  keep  him  away 
from  me,  and  threaten  to  expose  me  to  my  father,  that 
you  may  have  him  yourself.  He  is  afraid  that  you  will 
do  it,  and  that  I  will  have  to  suffer  through  his  doing. 
But  I  am  not  afraid.  Tell  anything  you  know,  I  do 
not  care!  It  could  do  no  more  than  your  threats  have 
(lone  already." 

"Ha,  ha!  foolish  girl,"  said  Nellie.  "It  is  not  I 
who  alienates  the  affections  of  your  love.  Perhaps  you 
have  not  seen  the  beauty  of  the  season.  If  you  had, 
you  would  know  the  story.  She  has  turned  the  heads 
of  half  the  old  miners,  not  to  mention  the  men  here  at 
the  hotel,  who  get  a  chance  to  speak  to  her.  What  do 
you  suppose  would  be  likely  to  follow  when  a  man  who 
has  the  capacity  to  fall  in  love  every  half-hour  is  en 
couraged  by  such  a  girl?  He  is  desperately  infatuated. 
He  has  only  been  amusing  himself  with  you.  It  must 
be  so,  or  he  would  never  be  so  attentive  to  some  one 
else." 

Nellie's  quick  wit  knew  this  was  a  good  opportunity 
to  further  her  own  ends.  To  rouse  Nita's  jealousy,  and 
make  her  quarrel  with  George,  would  induce  him  to 
seek  all  the  more  for  Mabel's  favor.  Even  if  hopeless, 
he  would  perhaps  prefer  to  try  the  experiment  of  play 
ing  the  rejected  and  heart-broken  lover,  if  every  other 


232  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN    DEEP. 

resource  had  failed,  and  he  had  no  other  opportunity  to 
flirt.  Besides,  she  desired  to  enlighten  Nita  as  to  the 
truth,  and  awaken  her  anger,  for  the  sake  of  gaining 
her  confidence.  Nita  no  douht  had  opportunities  to 
learn  of  the  troubles  at  the  mill,  and  the  causes  of  it; 
it  might  be  she  would  reveal  what  she  knew  to  Nellie. 

But  Nita's  thoughts  were  far  from  the  troubles  at  the 
mill.  She  sat  with  blanched  cheeks  and  wondering 
eyes,  all  her  old  fire  and  passion  quenched,  looking 
hopelessly  but  appealing  into  Nellie's  face.  "  He  can 
not  be  amusing  himself  with  me! "  she  said,  with  stony 
despair.  "  Y6u  do  not  know  how  true  he  seems  to  me. 
I  do  not  believe  it! "  But  her  looks  showed  how  far  the 
awful  fear  possessed  her. 

"  O,  you  don't,  eh?"  said  Nellie,  seeming  to  grow 
indifferent.  "  Well,  your  faithful  George  is  out  this 
very  minute  making  love  to  our  handsome  Mabel." 

"  Mabel ! "  repeated  Nita,  as  if  the  thought  had 
dazed  her.  "  Oh,  no!  it  is  not  that  girl!"  she  cried,  her 
thoughts  coming  back  and  bringing  a  ray  of  hope. 
u  She  is  not  cruel  enough  to  take  him  away  from  me; 
she  looks  so  gentle  and  sweet." 

"  O  yes,  that  is  what  they  all  say.  But  they  get 
fooled.  Men  always  think  a  beautiful  woman  is  good. 
It  is  because  beauty  is  the  physical  expression  of 
sweetness  and  innocence.  It  is  because  her  face  looks 
as  if  she  were  good  and  true,  that  they  cannot  believe 
she  is  not.  They  do  not  know  that  beauty  often  hides 
a  hideously  ugly  soul." 

"  O,  but  I  don't  believe  she  could  be  so  cruel  as  to 
do  that,  —  when  she  has  everything,  and  I  have  noth 
ing." 


THE   GHOST   IN   THE    ROSE   ARBOR.  233 

"  She  does  not  know  that  she  is  taking  him  from 
any  one,  you  simpleton.  I  never  told  her  that  George 
had  a  sweetheart  whom  he  met  in  the  woods.  He  is  the 
one  to  blame.  He  is  trifling  with  you  to  please  his 
own  vanity.  It  is  fine  sport  for  him  to  make  you  love 
him,  but  he  is  deceiving  you  with  his  stories  and  his 
flattery;  his  promises  are  nothing.  That  ring,"  said 
Nellie,  pointing  contemptuously  to  a  little  gold  circlet  on 
Nita's  brown  hand,  — "  take  it  off  and  stamp  it  under 
foot.  It  is  a  pledge  of  lies,  —  nothing  else.  He  has  no 
shame.  He  glories  in  his  conquests,  and  loves  to  have 
a  pretty  little  story  for  his  friends  when  he  is  in  the 
mood.  Throw  it  away,  and  then  go  and  assure  your 
self  that  I  tell  you  the  truth.  He  and  Mabel  have 
been  out  riding  all  the  afternoon.  You  will  see  them 
coming  home  along  the  road  from  the  old  mines  if  you 
watch." 

Nita  rose  to  go.  Her  face  was  strangely  altered  in 
its  distorted  whiteness,  and  she  gave  Nellie  one  last 
look,  as  if  mutely  appealing  to  be  told  that  her  pain 
was  needless, — that  what  she  had  heard  was  untrue, — 
but  she  saw  it  was  in  vain.  She  closed  the  door  care 
fully,  and  was  gone  with  silent  step  along  the  hall. 
The  servants  peeped  slyly  at  her  as  she  descended  the 
stairs,  and  tittered  and  whispered  that  she  had  changed 
her  tune  since  last  they  saw  her,  but  she  knew  it  not. 

Along  the  broad  highway  that  led  in  curving  sweeps 
across  the  hills  she  hurried,  caring  not  that  the  deep 
red  dust  rose  up  in  little  clouds  about  her,  and  soiled 
the  silky  folds  of  her  precious  dress,  or  that  a  crowd 
of  idle  miners  watched  and  made  coarse  comments  on 
her  impatient  haste.  The  blackened,  riven  roofs  of  tho 


234  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

old  town  at  last  appeared  in  sight,  with  the  long  road 
winding  out  beyond,  its  course  unbroken  by  the  forms 
of  horsemen  outlined  darkly  against  its  bright  track, 
and  only  dotted  here  and  there  with  little  bevies  of 
birds, — the  swift-footed  quail  and  the  wild  dove  running 
up  and  down  and  across  it,  leaving  little  star-like  im 
prints  of  their  feet  in  the  gleaming  dust.  Then  Nita 
ceased  her  hurried  gait,  stopping  to  brush  the  bottom  of 
her  dress,  and  to  gather  here  and  there  from  the  dry, 
trodden  grass  at  the  roadside  some  downy  seeds  of  the 
dandelion,  and  a  few  hard,  crackling  heads  of  scented 
sunflower,  then  idly  continuing  her  way  until  she 
reached  the  dilapidated  houses  and  neglected  gardens 
of  the  old  town.  All  the  lumber  not  worm-eaten 
and  decayed  had  been  taken  to  Lucky  Streak  by  the 
new  builders,  and  so  there  stood  here  falling  houses, 
doomed  to  be  doorless  because  these  carefully  secured 
protectors  had  wholly  failed  to  keep  grim  poverty  from 
entering  or  the  trustful  dwellers  from  going  out;  and 
pointed  roofs,  shattered  and  warped,  lying  flat  on  the 
ground  like  the  low,  broad  wigwams  of  the  Indians. 
Nita  wandered  along  aimlessly,  picking  leaves  from 
the  long  branches  in  the  tangled  gardens,  and  gather 
ing 'pebbles  and  pieces  of  broken  crockery,  in  a  bewil 
dered  sort  of  way,  looking  often  up  the  red,  rocky  road 
with  weary  eyes,  as  if  dreading  to  see  the  objects  for 
which  she  watched.  The  fury  of  her  sorrow  had  left 
her  confused  and  weak.  Her  heart  was  numbed  to 
that  blind  agony  of  anger  that  had  moved  it  at  first 
so  deeply,  and  she  waited  patiently  until  the  sun  sank 
down  in  a  gorgeous  bank  of  clouds  behind  the  purple 
line  of  hills,  and  the  twilight  was  coming  fast  into  the 
lowlands. 


THE   GHOST   IN   THE   HOSE   ARBOR.  235 

Then  suddenly  came  the  sound  of  voices  and  the 
clatter  of  ringing  hoofs,  and  looking  up  she  saw  George 
and  Mabel  riding  on  a  slow  trot  along  the  road.  They 
were  talking  carelessly,  but  presently  Mabel  reined  in 
her  horse  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  old  church,  with  its 
sagging  doors  and  roofless  walls,  its  white,  stainless  altar 
under  the  blue  dome  of  heaven,  never  lighted  now  but 
with  the  rays  of  the  far-off  stars,  and  wet  only  with  the 
pure,  clear  tears  of  the  rain-clouds.  Willows  drooped, 
long-leaved  and  mournful,  beside  the  walls,  yielding 
now  and  then  their  tress-like  branches  to  the  winds 
that  tossed  them  in  through  the  arched  window-holes, 
and  scattered  their  loose  yellow  leaves  over  the  deserted 
pews  and  into  the  silent  aisles. 

At  length  the  two  rode  on  again  in  silence,  while  Nita 
concealed  herself  in  an  old  falling  arbor  covered  with 
a  thick  mass  of  climbing  roses,  and  awaited  their  ap 
proach.  Now  the  dead  torpor  of  her  wrath  was  roused 
afresh.  Her  heart  beat  wildly  with  a  deep,  suffocating 
pain,  that  seemed  to  take  away  her  breath  and  crush 
out  all  the  lingering  hopes  that  she  had  cherished.  A 
fierce  jealousy  burned  in  her  brain  with  an  ungovern 
able  madness.  She  peered  out  from  her  leafy  hiding- 
place,  with  eyes  that  shone  like  gems,  and  watched  the 
man  to  whom  she  had  given  all  her  strongest,  deepest 
love,  for  whom  she  had  forgotten  the  holiest  of  vows,  to 
whom  she  looked  for  everything  her  heart  loved  best, 
—  she  watched  him  turn  with  looks  of  admiration  upon 
the  fair  girl  who  rode  beside  him,  and  saw  his  face 
shine  with  a  love-light  it  had  never  worn  before;  and 
then  she  knew  that  her  poor  erring  heart  had  been  de 
ceived,  and  had  met  the  penalty  for  its  wayward  sin. 


236  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

A  demon  tempted  her  tortured  conscience  as  she 
looked  at  Mabel,  and  she  drew  out  of  her  bosom  a  little 
silvery  dagger  and  held  it  convulsively  in  her  plump 
brown  hand.  She  would  surely  end  it  if  her  fears  came 
true.  This  must  some  time  be  the  deliverance  from 
her  torturing  woes. 

Did  George  mentally  compare  that  dark-faced  rider 
who  had  left  a  picture  in  his  mind,  one  cold  spring 
night  on  the  rocky  hill  in  the  blaze  of  the  dim  stage- 
lamps,  her  face  full  of  uncurbed  anger  and  almost 
savage  beauty,  with  this  refined  girl  who  rode  beside 
him  now,  cultivated  though  not  affected  in  her  easy, 
careless  grace,  handsome  in  her  dark  green  riding-dress 
relieved  by  a  plumy  spike  of  golden-rod,  and  with  a 
face  that  was  fair  and  lovely,  and  softened  and  gentle 
in  every  line? 

As  the  riders  drew  near  the  old  arbor,  Mabel  espied  the 
tangled  roses  over  it,  bright  here  and  there  with  clusters 
of  shining,  scarlet  seed-buds.  She  was  thinking  of  an 
other  ride  she  had  taken  through  this  old  abandoned 
town,  one  that  had  returned  to  her  memory  in  after 
days  with  a  sacred  meaning,  —  a  remembrance  fondly 
cherished  of  the  day  when  she  first  met  some  one  who 
had  woven  a  spell  into  the  whole  of  her  quiet  life. 
Why  not  gather  a  branch  as  a  memento  of  that  happy 
time  when  she  had  seen  it  full  of  wild  and  fragrant 
bloom?  The  summer  had  gone,  and  her  dream  was 
over;  soon  winter's  noiseless  footsteps  would  be  coldly 
whitening  on  the  summits,  and  stealing  down  the  pur 
ple  avenues  in  tracks  of  gleaming  snow;  and  then  she 
v.ould  go  away,  perhaps  never  to  return  to  this  coun 
try  that  had  Been  the  blossoming  and  the  withering 


THE    GHOST   IN   THE    ROSE   ARBOR.  237 

of  her  tenderest  hopes.  In  her  far-away  city  Lome 
would  she  not  love  to  see  it,  —  a  little  leafy  spray  that 
grew  where  the  steep  heights  looked  down  upon  it  in 
approving  majesty,  and  sent  it  breath  from  the  cool, 
clear  air  around  their  pure  white  crowns,  where  the 
red-gold  sunlight,  breaking  in  through  the  pine-fringed 
gateways  of  the  east,  had  coaxed  it  into  seas  of  tender 
bloom,  and  in  a  spot  where  she  had  spent  one  long, 
sweet  season  that  would  haunt  all  her  life  with  its  fond 
but  mournful  memories? 

She  stopped  her  horse  and  looked  at  George.  "  I 
want  a  branch  of  that  rose  vine,"  she  said.  "Will 
you  help  me  down?  " 

"Ah!  allow  me  to  get  it  for  you,"  said  the  gallant 
George,  springing  off  and  handing  her  his  horse's  rein. 

"  You  would  never  be  able  to  please  me.  It  must  be 
very  choice,  and  I  must  pick  it  myself,"  said  Mabel, 
pleasantly. 

George  helped  her  with  an  air  of  fond  solicitude,  set 
ting  her  lightly  and  carefully  down  in  the  grass,  out 
of  the  dust,  and  then  stood  holding  their  horses  and 
watching  her  with  admiring  eyes.  His  face  was  never 
handsomer  than  it  looked  in  that  soft  twilight  radi 
ance,  and  his  voice  was  never  richer  or  more  tender 
than  when  he  called  out  to  Mabel  to  beware  of  the 
ghosts  that  walked  about  in  the  old  ruins.  Nita's 
heart  thrilled* anew,  in  spite  of  all  its  pain,  at  the 
sound,  while  a  fierce  desperation  seized  her,  and  she 
looked  at  Mabel,  who  was  picking  her  way  daintily 
through  the  dry,  dusty  grass  to  the  arbor,  her  long 
skirt  gathered  up  in  her  hands,  and  her  head  bent  as 
if  she  were  thinking  gravely.  The  little  dagger  gleamed 


238  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

again,  and  mirrored  in  its  shining  blade  the  dark  face 
above  it  in  all  its  distorted  madness. 

There  was  no  rustle  behind  the  broken  lattice-work 
of  the  arbor  as  Mabel  drew  near,  and  Nita  watched 
breathlessly  till  the  little  gloved  hand  should  reach  up 
to  gather  her  chosen  rose  spray. 

k'till  the  gentle  face  was  not  raised  upward,  and 
Mabel  stood  a  moment  looking  vacantly  into  the  lux 
uriant  mass  of  interwoven  branches,  with  folded  hands, 
while  a  faint  sigh  escaped  her  lips.  Nita  was  ready. 
But  when  Mabel  raised  her  eyes  and  lifted  her  hand, 
heedless  of  thorns,  to  gather  a  cluster  she  had  selected, 
two  dewy  tears  fell  flashing  from  ber  eyes,  and  lay 
quivering  like  liquid  diamonds  on  the  rose-leaves.  And 
then  the  dark  face,  with  all  the  horror  and  cruelty  of 
murder  in  it,  changed,  and  softened  with  wonder  and 
pity,  while  the  little  dagger  fell  crushing  and  rustling 
through  the  matted  vines,  and  lay  forgotten  on  the 
dry  brown  earth  beneath.  "  She  loves  him  too,"  whis 
pered  Nita  to  herself;  "  and  she  is  good  ";  while  Mabel 
started  back  in  alarm,  and  stood  a  little  distance  from 
the  arbor,  looking  steadily  toward  it,  her  rose  spray 
trembling  in  a  hand  that  trembled  too. 

"  What  is  it? "  asked  George,  throwing  the  horses' 
reins  over  a  leaning  stake  by  the  roadside,  and  hurry 
ing  up  to  Mabel;  "  have  you  seen  the  ghosts  I  warned 
you  against?" 

"  It  is  nothing,  I  guess.  Something  stirred  in  the 
leaves,  —  a  bird,  perhaps,"  said  Mabel. 

Nita  realized  that  she  would  be  discovered,  and  she 
knew  not  what  excuse  to  give;  but  with  the  boldness  of 
desperation  she  came  out  of  her  hiding-place  and  stood 


THE    GHOST    IN    THE    ROSE    ARBOR.  230 

before  them,  looking  strangely  haggard  and  frightened. 
u  0,  it  is  only  that  black-eyed  girl  whose  father  works 
in  the  mill,"  said  George,  as  he  saw  her,  glancing  quickly 
away  and  turning  to  go.  Of  all  ghosts,  he  did  not  want 
this  one  to  rise  and  haunt  him  now.  Mabel  looked  up 
too,  and  saw  Nita  leaning  against  the  cracking  lattice 
work.  She  greeted  the  girl  with  a  rare,  sweet  smile, 
and  said  pleasantly,  "Good  evening,  Nita.  Our  meet 
ing  was  rather  too  sudden,  I  think.  We  were  both  sur 
prised  and  a  little  frightened.  This  is  such  a  gloomy 
place,  it  is  easy  to  imagine  a  host  of  terrors  in  every 
sound." 

"Yes,"  faltered  Nita,  standing  in  blank  recklessness, 
and  watching  for  a  glance  from  George.  But  he  did 
not  look  again. 

Helping  Mabel  to  her  saddle  with  a  manner  slightly 
changed,  and  more  hurried  than  when  he  lifted  her 
down,  and  springing  on  to  his  own  horse,  they  started 
away.  "  It  is  getting  late,"  he  said.  "  We  must  ride 
briskly,  or  we  '11  be  absent  at  table." 

"We'll  soon  be  there,"  said  Mabel;  "it  is  only  a 
short  way  beyond  the  hill";  and  with  a  pleasant  look 
over  her  shoulder  toward  Nita,  and  a  parting  smile,  she 
was  galloping  down  the  dusty  road. 

A  groan  burst  from  Nita's  lips  as  she  turned  away, 
after  watching  with  strained  eyes  the  two  dark  forms 
till  they  vanished  over  the  hill.  The  night  seemed 
gathering  fast  around,  and  with  a  violent,  restless  bit 
terness  in  her  soul,  she  started  up  swiftly  to  return 
home.  Through  dense  thickets  that  tore  her  dress 
and  scratched  her  face  she  hurried;  into  dark,  unfre 
quented  woods  scarcely  lighted  by  the  late,  fading  twi- 


240  AROUND    THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

light;  and  across  dry  old  creek  channels,  forsaken  by 
the  rushing  waters,  stony,  and  whitened  with  bleached 
water  weeds,  and  dotted  with  darkling  pools  in  every 
deep  basin  of  their  wayward  windings.  She  was  cross 
ing  a  little  opening  in  the  woods,  where  her  footsteps 
were  retarded  by  the  deep,  matted  wild  oats  that 
rustled  and  gave  out  a  rich  yet  dusty  odor,  when  the 
form  of  a  man  appeared  among  the  trees  toward  which 
she  was  hastening.  He  scanned  her  a  moment  in  sur 
prise,  then  he  paused,  standing  boldly  in  her  path, 
while  a  smile  brightened  his  face.  He  did  not  speak 
for  fear  of  startling  her,  yet  he  regretted  this,  for  when 
she  caught  sight  of  him  she  uttered  a  scream  and  threw 
up  her  hands  as  if  she  had  met  a  ghost.  Still  she  knew 
him.  "John,  0  John!"  she  cried,  gazing  upon  him 
with  a  half-wild,  half-shy  look  in  her  dark  eyes,  and 
her  voice  was  scarcely  more  than  a  whisper  when  she 
added  "My  husband!"  and  shrunk  back  in  dismay. 


ONE   NIGHT   AROUND   THE   MILL.  241 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

ONE   NIGHT   AROUND   THE   MILL. 

I  am  sorry  for  thee,  friend. 

SHAKESPEARE. 

ALL  day  a  ghostly  silence  reigned  over  the  motionless 
mill,  from  which  the  busy  throngs  had  fled,  and  over 
the  quiet,  lifeless  town,  while  the  singing  pines  made 
a  weird,  prophetic  musing  in  their  tossing  crests,  and 
the  leafy  boughs  shook  down  their  red-tinged  robes  of 
autumn  as  if  wont  to  cast  their  brightness  to  the  frown 
ing  earth.  A  red  haze  lingered  in  the  hills,  and  draped 
with  purplish  folds  the  distant  peaks  of  snow;  and  in 
the  still  air  seemed  the  mournful  calling  of  an  unknown 
voice,  blasting  the  hope  of  life,  and  tainting  all  with 
the  cankering  touch  of  despair. 

Mr.  Sevenoakes  did  not  keep  his  word.  Edward  saw 
him  and  his  adviser  George  setting  out  quite  early  to 
the  former's  "  sanctum,"  engaged  in  earnest  conversa 
tion.  Neither  of  them  looked  toward  the  mill,  where 
Edward  waited.  After  an  hour  or  so  of  counsel  giv 
ing  and  receiving,  the  younger  man  came  out,  but  Mr. 
Sevenoakes  made  no  appearance.  Edward  knew  that 
trouble  was  brewing,  and  that  his  hopes  of  settlement 
were  defeated.  He  was  wholly  without  friends,  without 
power.  The  thought  came  to  him  with  more  pain  than 
he  had  imagined  he  could  feel  at  the  loss  of  his  posi 
tion,  and  the  disgrace  in  this  instance  attending  it. 


242  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

But  still  he  waited,  though  unrewarded  for  his  pa 
tience.  From  that  little  green-curtained  window  of 
"the  office"  seemed  to  come  a  deadly,  silent  fire  of 
destruction  that  was  more  forcible  and  more  awful 
than  even  the  volleys  of  an  enemy's  ranks.  As  up  and 
down  with  restless  step  and  throbbing  head  the  troubled 
manager  walked  through  the  deserted  building,  over 
and  over  again  he  looked  from  the  frozen  machinery  of 
toil,  in  a  blind,  dazed  way,  to  see  if  a  sound  of  life  were 
stirring,  but  he  saw  always  the  closed  door  and  the  dark, 
liquid-looking  window-panes,  without  even  a  breath  of 
change  save  when  the  afternoon  sun  broke  through  the 
cloudy  skies  and  a  slant  ray  of  light  swept  across  the 
clear  glass.  Then  the  green  curtain  was  pulled  down 
farther  by  an  unseen  hand,  and  all  was  quiet  as  before. 
Still  he  kept  up  his  walk  in  the  desolate  place,  —  into 
the  laboratory,  into  the  machinery-room,  often  glancing 
through  the  windows  at  the  office,  toward  the  town,  and 
up  at  the  great  hotel,  where  the  broad  windows  shone 
and  blinked  like  yellow  eyes  in  the  afternoon  sun. 

Pie  was  bending  over  the  great  crusher  and  extract 
ing  bits  of  broken  ore  when  the  party  of  three  set  out 
on  their  ride  to  the  cave,  and  so  he  did  not  sec  them 
depart;  nor  did  he  see  them  return,  for  at  that  time  he 
was  looking  gloomily  out  of  the  western  window  at  the 
faded  sunset  clouds  that  pictured  many  groups  of  fiery 
islands  afloat  in  dim  gray  seas.  Nellie  counted  too  con 
fidently  on  the  success  of  her  plan.  He  did  not  have 
this  seeming  confirmation  of  her  words  spoken  that 
evening  by  the  window  to  add  to  his  unhappy  thoughts. 

When  evening  drew  near,  and  still  the  superintendent 
did  not  pay  his  promised  visit,  Edward  left  the  mill  to 


ONE    NIGHT    AROUND    THE    MILL.  243 

call  the  watchman  who  had  served  the  night  before, 
and  on  his  way  he  stopped  at  the  office.  Mr.  Seven- 
oakes  was  still  there.  u  Come  in,  Mr.  Dennett,"  he 
said  rather  coldly,  with  a  lustreless  stare  from  his  depth- 
less  eyes. 

"  You  did  not  call  down  at  the  mill  as  you  agreed," 
Edward  said,  coldly  also,  standing  near  the  door;  "  I 
came  to  see  if  you  have  decided  yet."  He  performed 
his  unpleasant  errand  as  shortly  as  possible.  Not  for 
the  world  would  he  cringe  and  flatter  for  the  sake  of 
mollifying  the  little  man's  ruffled  temper.  He  would 
stand  on  his  own  merits,  he  would  maintain  his  own 
dignity  at  the  cost  of  absolute  defeat. 

"  It  is  a  difficult  thing  to  decide,  Mr.  Dennett,  when 
the  course  you  have  insisted  on  taking  bids  fair  to  ruin 
us.  I  have  decided  this  much,  however,  —  that  we  are 
in  imminent  danger  of  being  mobbed,  or  forcibly  com 
pelled  to  yield  to  the  men.  The  shaft  hands  are 
already  in  a  ferment.  They  are  ripe  for  mischief  now; 
it  is  give  in  or  take  the  consequences,  —  that  I  am  sure 
of.  How,  then,  am  /  to  adjust  the  matter,  when  neither 
side  will  make  the  least  concession.  I  am  powerless 
unless  some  one  will  take  the  first  move  toward  recon 
ciliation.  It  is  all  right  for  the  participants  in  the 
quarrel,  of  course;  they  have  no  property  at  stake,  no 
business  suffering,  and  so  they  can  afford  to  fight  it 
out,  and  use  other  men's  means  with  which  to  do  it." 

"  Have  you  seen  any  manifestations  of  violence,  Mr. 
Sevenoakes?"  asked  Edward,  feeling  it  useless  now  to 
discuss  matters  while  Mr.  Sevenoakes  was  so  disturbed 
as  to  use  the  sarcasm  which  he  had  just  employed. 

"Manifestations!     Why,  I  hear  of  threats  and  the 


244  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

like,  that  ought  to  be  manifestation  enough  for  any  one 
who  does  not  persist  in  refusing  to  recognize  them." 

"  In  view  of  all  the  facts,  Mr.  Sevenoakes,"  Edward 
said  steadily,  though  it  cost  him  an  effort  and  some 
regrets,  "  I  think  we  had  better  dissolve  our  business 
relations.  I  certainly  will  not  consent  to  take  any 
other  position  with  regard  to  the  management  of  the 
men.  You  perhaps  can  readily  find  some  one  who 
will.  I  venture  to  prophesy  that  you  will  get  along 
without  further  trouble  for  a  week  or  so."  Edward 
could  not  resist  a  touch  of  satire  in  that  bitter  moment; 
but  his  generous  spirit  rose  magnanimously  above  it  in 
his  next  words.  "When  my  successor  is  appointed,  I 
freely  offer  all  my  experience  to  assist  him  in  conduct 
ing  business  on  the  old  system,  so  that  there  need  be 
no  trouble  in  managing  the  work.  The  machinery  is 
only  obstinate  with  certain  ores,  and  a  certain  speed  in 
running.  In  a  short  time  one  can  learn  to  manage  it 
reasonably  well.  If  I  can  be  of  any  use  in  this  way, 
you  may  depend  on  me." 

Mr.  Sevenoakes  felt  better.  He  did  not  believe  Ed 
ward's  generosity  genuine,  but  he  was  glad  to  see  at 
least  a  show  of  docility,  glad  to  feel  that  Edward  had 
made  an  attempt  to  appease  him.  He  did  not  like  to 
do  a  mean  act  any  better  than  most  men  who  think 
themselves  honorable  and  fair;  and  yet,  though  he  be 
lieved  that  Edward  did  not  want  to  leave  the  mill,— 
that  this  was  only  a  ruse  employed  to  win  lost  favor,  — 
he  resolved  to  take  advantage  of  it,  and  also  to  hold 
Edward  to  his  offer  of  rendering  assistance.,  if  it  were 
needed.  Then  perhaps  he  could  continue  to  get  along 
with  his  new  manager.  "  You  have  saved  me  the  un- 


ONE   NIGHT   AROUND   THE   MILL.  245 

pleasant  necessity  of  deciding  against  you,  by  your 
resignation,"  said  the  wily  superintendent.  "  I  accept 
it,  knowing  that  otherwise  we  can  never  accomplish  a 
pacification  among  the  turbulent  spirits  about  us." 

"  Very  well,  sir;  I  am  satisfied  with  that.  If  you 
will  not  wait  for  the  subjection  that  is  certain  to  come 
with  time,  it  is  the  only  thing  to  be  done.  I  know  the 
men  quite  as  well  as  you  do,  and  I  feel  confident  of 
the  course  they  will  take  if  unmolested";  and  Edward 
turned  away. 

"Hold  on,"  called  Mr.  Sevenoakes;  "one  moment 
more.  I  must  make  use  of  your  generous  offer  of  help 
this  very  evening.  I  will  ask  you  to  see  to  the  watch 
man,  and  remain  in  charge  of  everything  as  usual  till 
to-morrow  morning.  Then  we  will  start  up.  I  think 
I  will  let  Brooklyn  try  his  hand  at  managing,  and 
perhaps  with  your  help  he  will  succeed  in  getting  on 
somehow.  May  be  by  to-morrow  there  will  be  such 
developments  in  the  case  as  will  enable  us  to  go  on  as 
usual,  with  you  in  your  old  place.  Good  night,  Mr. 
Dennett." 

The  superintendent  added  the  last  sentence  as  an 
inducement  for  Edward  to  do  his  duty  as  well  as  usual, 
fearing  he  might  be  negligent  unless  he  had  some 
interest  to  serve.  But  he  did  not  mean  it;  the  little 
shuttle  had  run  its  length.  His  mind  was  made  up; 
and  so  he  immediately  started  off  to  look  for  George, 
with  his  pocket  full  of  cigars  and  his  head  full  of  good 
news.  He  felt  relieved  and  almost  encouraged,  for  he 
had  been  a  victim  of  the  conspiracy  rather  than  an 
accomplice;  and  now  he  hoped  for  peace  and  the 
whistle,  and  wanted  to  talk  with  his  confidant  over 


246  ABOUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

their  gleaming,  fragrant  Havanas.  His  search  was 
fruitless,  and  fruitless  also  several  other  times  that 
evening,  when  he  strolled  around  on  the  same  errand. 

About  half-past  eight  the  young  man  appeared,  but 
declined  the  invitation  to  take  a  smoke.  "  The  ladies 
have  captured  me,"  he  explained,  hastening  away;  "  I 
am  breathlessly  obeying  their  mandates  now ";  and 
that  was  the  last  the  superintendent  saw  of  him. 

Edward  left  the  office  with  a  heavy  heart.  Every 
thing  seemed  to  work  against  him,  even  his  strivings 
to  be  magnanimous  to  those  who  had  injured  him. 
For  by  his  beneficent  offer  he  was  now  bound  to  per 
form  a  duty  that  would  be  utterly  distasteful,  assisting, 
as  it  did,  one  who  gloried  in  his  downfall.  But  he  put 
the  thought  aside  as  unworthy.  He  was  human,  and 
he  felt  the  sting  deeply,  but  he  resolved  it  should 
have  no  place  among  his  troubles.  He  would  not  brood 
over  it. 

Night  came,  gloomy  with  clouds  overhead,  and  sigh 
ing  winds  that  rustled  through  the  dry  wild  oats,  and 
in  the  treetops  moaned  and  wailed  with  dismal  voices. 
Lights,  pale  and  spectral,  from  the  hidden  moon,  broke 
through  the  rifts  of  enveloping  black  ness,  throwing  a  dim 
refulgence  over  the  serried  groves  until  they  stretched 
away  into  fathomless  darkness,  and  falling  in  a  white 
mystic  glare  over  the  rude  town,  brightened  here  and 
there  by  a  redder,  warmer  light  that  shone  out  from 
some  solitary  cabin  window,  or  from  the  wide-doored 
saloons,  murmuring  faintly  with  the  din  that  rang 
hilariously  within.  All  around  reigned  a  vague  unrest, 
—a  weird  and  mournful  prophecy  of  coming  change. 
The  creek,  flowing  past  the  mill,  no  longer  brimming 


ONE   NIGHT   AROUND   THE   MILL.  247 

with  summer's  melted  summits,  rushed  cold  and  white 
along  its  rocky  way,  and  roared  in  a  monotonous  under 
tone  of  wrath,  echoing  dull  and  heavy  down  the  lone 
some  canons,  with  the  awful  warning  voice  of  eternity 
whispering  through  its  low,  deep  thunderings. 

The  bell  for  dinner  at  the  big  hotel  called  in  the 
loiterers  from  the  veranda,  and  lights  shone,  dim 
and  small,  deep  in  behind  the  windows,  leaving  the 
great  building  far  more  gloomy  and  forbidding  than  it 
had  ever  seemed  before.  Edward  went  late  into  the 
dining-room,  after  it  was  almost  deserted,  dreading  to 
encounter  the  curious  gaze  of  the  guests  in  case  the 
news  of  the  change  at  the  mill  had  been  noised  abroad, 
as  most  certainly  it  would  be  when  George  learned  of 
his  promotion,  and  quite  likely,  Edward  thought,  with 
not  much  adherence  to  the  truth.  His  face,  he  knew, 
looked  shadowy  and  worn  with  anxiety,  and  that  night 
he  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  facing  the  staring 
multitude  with  such  a  testimonial  against  him  and  his 
strong,  manly  pride.  A  party  of  hunters,  coming  in 
from  their  woodland  chase,  sat  at  the  table  with  him, 
talking  vociferously  in  a  foreign  tongue  about  their 
game,  and  paying  little  heed  to  the  stranger  who  shared 
their  meal.  The  circumstance  heightened  Edward's 
loneliness,  it  seemed  so  unfriendly  to  him,  while  the 
lights  shone  dim  and  unnatural  above  them,  making 
dark,  uncertain  shadows  in  the  corners,  and  unsteady 
gleams  on  the  dazzling  table-cloth.  All  things  about 
him  assumed  an  unaccountable  dreariness,  so  he  pushed 
his  plate  aside  and  went  out  again  into  the  windy  night. 

The  watchman  at  the  mill  sat  glumly  on  the  stump 
that  the  sleek  little  Sevenoakcs  once  had  graced,  look- 


248  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN    DEEP. 

ing  meditatively  up  at  the  hotel,  anxious  for  some  signs 
of  life  or  a  breath  of  the  day's  subdued  excitement. 
He  removed  his  stale-smelling  pipe  as  if  under  protest 
when  first  spoken  to,  but  when  Edward  generously 
offered  to  relieve  him  of  his  watch  the  last  quarter  of 
the  night,  the  pipe  went  deprecatingly  behind  him, 
and  a  hearty  "  much  obliged,"  attested  his  gratitude. 
"  Kinder  windy  and  oncomfortable  out  to-night,"  he 
remarked,  v/ith  an  effort  to  be  somewhat  friendly 
toward  this  man  about  whom  the  whole  town  was  hiss 
ing  angrily. 

"Yes;  not  a  pleasant  night  to  watch.  But  keep  a 
good  lookout,  and  I  '11  certainly  be  around  toward 
morning."  The  watchman  smiled,  and  jumping  down 
from  his  stump,  started  away  on  a  new  tour  of  in 
spection,  the  beloved  pipe  again  finding  its  place  be 
tween  his  large  yellow  teeth. 

Out  on  the  edge  of  the  pine  woods  near  the  mill  stood 
a  little  vine-mantled  cabin,  long  deserted  and  uncared 
for,  and  slowly  going  to  decay.  It  was  low  and  humble, 
with  a  leaky  roof,  and  a  crumbling  chimney  built  of 
rocks  and  mud,  but  it  was  covered  with  a  faithful 
honeysuckle  that  ran  unchecked  over  gray  walls  and 
rent  roof,  as  if  the  tender  vine  would  hide  all  these 
unsightly  defects  with  its  dumb  but  constant  love.  In 
the  strong  light  of  day  the  cabin  was  almost  attractive, 
burdened  with  its  wealth  of  dusky  green  leaves  and 
dry,  fallen  pine-needles,  lodged,  like  a  shower  of  tiny 
javelins,  in  the  soft  moss  on  its  roof;  and  when  spring 
time's  vernal  beauties  were  abroad,  with  flowers  bloom 
ing  gorgeously  over  the  gray,  naked  rocks,  this  little 
abandoned  dwelling,  with  its  white  crown  of  trembling, 


ONE   NIGHT   AROUND  THE   MILL.  249 

fragrant  blossoms,  still  made  a  bower  even  more  invit 
ing  than  the  wild  nests  of  vines  around  it.  But  at 
night  when  the  coming  winter's  melancholy  winds  had 
stripped  the  woods  of  their  bloom  and  their  richest 
foliage,  when  ghostly  clouds  drifted  overhead  in  sable 
masses,  edged  with  pale,  unearthly  brightness,  when 
the  blackest  depths  of  shadow  lurked  in  that  low  open 
doorway,  it  was  anything  but  alluring  and  cheerful. 
Still  Edward  bent  his  steps  to  the  lonely  cabin,  think 
ing  gloomily  of  its  former  occupant,  a  poor  old  man 
who  worked  in  the  mines.  One  morning  no  blue 
smoke-wreath  curled  upward  from  that  low,  rude  chim 
ney,  and  no  bent  form  was  seen  creeping  slowly  along 
the  trail  to  the  mill.  They  found  him  pale  and  cold 
in  the  long  slumber  that  knows  no  dreams;  and  so 
when  they  had  carried  him  through  that  vine-trellised 
portal,  and  had  laid  him  to  rest  under  the  lyric  pines, 
with  a  spray  of  his  beloved  honeysuckle  on  his  breast, 
his  little  home  had  fallen  into  wreck  and  ruin,  and 
no  watchful  care  now  kept  its  lights  burning  warmly 
through  the  dusky  nights,  adding  their  brightness  to 
the  hundred  stars  that  twinkled  cheerfully  from  hill 
side  and  canon. 

Throwing  himself  wearily  on  the  stone  steps  at  the 
door,  Edward  half  reclining  watched  the  white  glow 
force  for  itself  new  rifts  in  the  heavy  clouds,  and  lis 
tened  to  the  dirge-like  voices  of  the  wind.  No  ghost 
that  haunted  this  desolate  spot  could  bring  terrors  to 
him  now.  He  was  battling  with  his  own  ghosts, — the 
spirits  of  his  buried  hopes.  They  rose  up  and  stalked 
about  him  in  long,  jeering  files,  and  would  not  be 
silenced.  Disappointed  in  the  first  warm  love  of  his 


250  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

honest  heart,  defeated  in  all  his  manly  ambition,  dis 
graced  and  scorned,  with  none  to  offer  sympathy  in  his 
trouble,  weakened  by  his  wounded  hand,  and  worn  with 
a  restless  anxiety, — what  wonder,  then,  that  his  fate 
seemed  relentlessly  cruel,  that  his  hopes  were  swiftly 
perishing? 

A  glance  into  the  dark  woodland  near  him  revealed 
the  awful  loneliness  of  its  dimly  lighted  aisles,  where 
the  winds  played  free,  and  the  indistinct  'shadows 
shifted  and  trembled  and  wove  themselves  into  mighty 
nets,  intangible  and  indestructible  as  the  meshes  of 
fate;  so  almost  shuddering  he  turned  his  eyes  toward 
the  hotel  on  the  slope  above  him  just  in  time  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  a  slim  girlish  figure  passing  through  the 
long  windows  to  the  balcony.  The  light  behind  her 
revealed  soft,  curving  outlines  and  graceful  motions,  as, 
shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  she  looked  earnestly 
out  into  the  night.  But  she  quickly  vanished  again, 
and  a  dull  rattle  of  the  window  sounded  to  the  watcher 
in  the  far-off,  night-hidden  background,  like  the  last 
tinkle  of  the  bells  in  fairy-land,  when  the  walls  of  earth 
shut  round,  and  its  glorious  visions  are  hidden  from  the 
view  of  bewildered  mortals.  Something  familiar  in  the 
outlines  and  the  movements  of  that  form  roused  afresh 
his  rebellious  feelings,  and  turned  his  thoughts  to  bitter, 
hopeless  memories.  He  sat  motionless,  thinking  thus 
for  a  few  moments,  when  the  flutter  of  a  white  shawl 
attracted  his  notice,  and  he  saw  a  figure  moving  swiftly 
down  the  broad  road  toward  the  mill.  A  moment's 
pause  where  the  watchman  stood  like  a  black  lifeless 
pillar  in  the  shadow,  his  invisible  pipe  glowing  faintly 
like  a  mammoth  fire-fly  after  each  vigorous  pull  through 


ONE   NIGHT   AROUND   THE   MILL.  251 

its  curving  stem,  and  then  the  strange  form  moved 
away,  the  white  shawl  gleaming  silvery  through  the 
young  firs,  and  growing  brighter  as  it  neared  the  little 
cabin. 

A  strange  sensation  thrilled  in  Edward's  heart  as  the 
girl  came  rapidly  forward,  a  light  step  rustling  softly 
as  the  wind  in  the  fallen  leaves,  and  he  sat  up,  wonder 
ing,  with  an  inexpressible  joy,  why  she  came  to  him. 
Yes,  it  surely  was  Mabel,  her  quiet  grace,  her  queenly 
elegance,  revealed  even  in  the  dim  glare  that  broke 
through  the  drifting  clouds. 

But  at  last  she  paused,  timidly  taking  a  step  back 
ward,  and  looking  eagerly  into  the  shadows  that 
stretched  beyond.  Edward  rose  quickly  and  went 
toward  her. 

"  Oh ! "  said  the  sweet,  low  voice,  half  frightened. 
"Then  you  are  here";  and  Mabel  came  forward  again, 
holding  out  her  hand.  But  it  trembled  even  in  the 
warm,  strong  grasp  that  received  it,  while  she  said,  "I 
hardly  thought  you  would  be  in  this  gloomy  place,  and 
yet  I  had  the  courage  to  come  and  see.  The  watchman 
said  you  were  here,  but  he  did  not  offer  to  call  you,  as  I 
thought  he  would,  so  I  came  alone.  I  wish  to  tell  you 
something";  and  her  voice  fell  as  if  her  courage,  too, 
was  growing  faint,  but  after  a  short  pause  she  con 
tinued,  sweetly  and  calmly  as  at  first. 

"  We  have  not  seen  you  for  a  day  or  so,  and  I  was 
afraid  we  would  not  meet  again,  for  this  evening  Aunt 
Cynthia  decided  to  return  home  to-morrow  morning 
early, — frightened  by  the  signs  of  storm,  I  think.  But 
I  could  not  go  without  thanking  you  for  the  kindness 
you  have  shown  us;  I  could  not  bear  to  let  you  think 


252  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

it  all  forgotten,  since  it  has  made  our  summer  here  BO 
very  happy." 

There  was  a  revolution  of  thought  in  Edward's  brain, 
and  his  heart  was  beating  strong  and  joyous  once  more. 
Her  words!  —  they  were  nothing  that  an  artful  coquette 
might  not  have  said  for  a  last  thrust  at  her  victim.  Ah! 
it  was  useless  to  argue  that;  no  girl  like  Mabel  would 
venture  forth  on  such  a  night,  even  to  add  one  trophy 
to  her  spoils.  That  blissful  fact  remained:  she  had 
come  to  him;  she  had  dared  to  meet  him  half-way  in 
the  renewal  of  their  friendship. 

"And  there  was  something  else,"  she  went  on  hur 
riedly,  as  if  almost  afraid  to  mention  what  was  in  her 
thoughts.  "  I  wanted  to  tell  you  before;  I  wanted  so 
much  to  sympathize  with  you  in  your  trouble.  I  am 
so  very  eorry." 

With  one  great  bound  the  world  and  all  the  keen 
relish  for  its  blessings  came  back  to  Edward;  there 
was  such  a  materialization  of  his  ghosts  as  would  have 
delighted  beyond  expression  a  spiritualistic  circle;  he 
was  strong  again,  he  could  battle  with  misfortune,  he 
could  almost  bear  defeat,  though  it  would  deprive  him 
of  his  dearest  blessing,  if  only  in  that  downfall  he  could 
feel  that  Mabel's  warm,  tender  heart  was  sorry  for  him. 

"  Oh,  Mabel !  forgive  me  for  misjudging  you,"  he  said; 
"  I  thought  you  cold  and  thoughtless.  Why  did  we 
let  a  trifle  estrange  us?  Mabel,  you  surely  knew  my 
feelings  that  night  when  Miss  Minton's  words,  which 
we  could  not  but  overhear,  brought  such  a  terrible 
wound  to  my  heart.  Why  did  you  not  assure  me  that 
they  were  untrue?  " 

"  Could  I  explain  my  feelings  to  you  then?    You  had 


ONE   NIGHT   AROUND   THE   MILL.  253 

every  reason  to  believe  in  my  friendship,  —  at  least, 
small  reason  to  think  it  insincere,"  said  Mabel. 

"  I  realized  afterward  that  I  should  not  have  heeded 
what  we  heard,  —  that  I  should  have  asked  you  if  it 
were  true,"  he  answered  hastily;  "and  yet,  I  thought 
such  questions  would  avail  nothing;  they  would  but 
prolong  my  disappointment,  if  you  really  were  not  ear 
nest  in  your  friendship.  I  should  have  waited  till  I 
had  the  courage  to  ask  you.  Forgive  me,  Mabel;  let 
me  still  be  your  friend." 

Pie  walked  back  with  her  up  the  slope  to  the  hotel, 
renewing  with  a  stronger  faith  their  broken  trust,  while 
the  dim,  ghostly  lights  that  fell  around  them  changed 
to  a  soft,  white  radiance,  and  the  sobbing  winds  to 
cool,  inspiring  breezes,  that  blew  into  blossoms  wide 
and  fresh  and  fragrant  the  opening  buds  of  hope. 
Three  words  he  whispered  to  her  as  they  parted,  add 
ing  softly,  as  he  pressed  her  hand,  "  It  is  now  my  dear 
est  aim  that  I  may  some  time  say  the  rest." 

He  went  back  to  the  little  cabin  on  the  edge  of  the 
wood,  but  all  its  loneliness  was  gone.  Somehow,  in  the 
vague,  indistinct  language  of  thought,  he  made  a  re 
solve  that  it  should  ever  after  be  most  sacred  and  dear 
to  him.  He  would  never  tell  the  sweetness  of  the  se 
cret  that  clustered  around  it,  and  it  would  always  be  a 
sign  to  him,  an  incentive  in  weary  days  perhaps,  re 
minding  him  that  life  had  yielded  there  one  vision  of 
its  blissful  paradise,  the  influence  and  the  memory  of 
which  could  never  be  effaced.  Half  reclining  on  the 
stone  doorstep,  he  covered  his  face  with  both  his  hands, 
as  if  the  better  to  look  into  the  future,  and  listened  to 
the  winds  that  struck  a  stormy  music  from  the  lyres 


254  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

strung  in  the  tossing  pine-tops,  and  breathed  the  pure, 
cool  air  that  came  like  a  draught  from  the  fabled  life- 
renewing  fountains  beneath  the  hills'  hearts  of  eternal 
snow. 

Long  he  sat  there,  while  the  white  rifts  of  light  in 
the  sky  above  him  shifted  and  changed  and  faded, 
and  the  honeysuckle  vine  that  grew  beside  the  porch 
dropped  down  upon  his  head  a  leafy  spray,  like  a  gen 
tle  caress;  thoughts  assumed  the  shape  of  plans,  and 
wishes  and  hopes  came  fast  with  them,  so  that  the 
hours  flew  by,  and  he  heeded  them  not. 

Still  in  Edward's  mind  burned  the  rapturous  hope 
that  made  him  strong  for  the  future.  He  had  a  great 
work  before  him, —  a  work  with  an  end  in  view  that 
would  make  each  stroke  a  pleasure,  each  hour  a  fleet 
ing  moment,  bringing  nearer  his  one  great,  life-long 
happiness. 

The  late  stage  came  and  brought  its  short  excite 
ment;  the  hostler  led  away  his  horses  and  closed  the 
stables;  one  by  one  the  lights  vanished  from  the  cabin 
windows  on  the  hillsides;  the  hotel  at  last  was  dark 
and  quiet,  and  gloom  and  midnight  settled  over  the 
slumbering  camp  among  the  hills. 

Finally  the  dreamer's  head  fell  back  against  the  soft, 
fluttering  mass  of  leaves,  and  drowsiness  gave  way 
to  restful  sleep.  And  in  that  slumber  came  a  vision 
strange  arid  blissful.  He  dreamed  of  twilight  woods, 
wild,  boundless,  and  shadowy;  of  wandering  alone 
through  this  deep,  strange  wilderness,  and  vainly  seek 
ing  some  outlet  from  its  depthlcss  mystery.  Then  the 
echoes  of  a  sweet  song  in  the  air  above  the  mighty 
treetops  floated  down  to  him,  and  a  faint  rustle  in  the 


ONE   NIGHT    AROUND    THE    MILL.  255 

interweaving  boughs  that  shut  out  the  darkening  sky 
already  thick  with  stars.  He  looked  upward  and  saw 
a  heavenly  being  descending  slowly  to  the  ground.  It 
had  no  wings,  no  form  nor  guise  of  an  angel;  and  yet 
it  came  miraculously  through  the  air  into  this  far-off, 
dreamy  forest,  and  to  him.  On  the  ground  beside 
him  the  lovely  being  alighted,  a  soft  little  hand  stole 
into  his,  and  looking  up  he  saw  Mabel,  robed  in  dainty 
white,  standing  timidly  beside  him.  Then  all  the 
trees  around  burst  forth  into  ecstacies  of  song,  weird, 
and  strangely  sweet,  that  made  the  long  aisles  ring 
and  echo,  and  sent  melodious  vibrations  even  up  into 
the  depths  of  starlit  sky  above. 

Suddenly,  in  a  great  flood,  light,  richly  golden,  ter 
ribly  bright,  burst  over  the  darkened  scene;  it  illu 
minated  with  a  supernatural  brilliancy  the  far,  dim 
vistas  where  lurked  the  hidden  beasts,  threw  a  strange 
glow  into  the  heavens  above,  and  put  out  the  silvery 
light  of  all  the  throbbing  stars. 

He  started  up  from  his  dream  and  rubbed  his  eyes. 
Was  his  mind  unbalanced,  that  he  could  not  realize 
the  scene  before  him?  or  had  the  little  cabin  been 
spirited  away  into  some  unearthly  place  where  fierce 
destruction  was  abroad?  For  lo!  far  through  the  sur 
rounding  trees  burned  the  smoky  red  flames  that  swept 
down  the  high,  dry  grasses,  and  fed  angrily  on  the  free, 
fresh  winds;  up  at  the  big  hotel  long,  smoky  tongues 
of  light  curled  round  the  roof,  —  the  woods,  the  world, 
the  sky,  were  all  afire  1 


256  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE  DOCTOR'S  SUMMER  DREAMS. 

Hope  and  fear  alternate  chase 

Our  course  through  life's  uncertain  race. 

SCOTT. 

"DowN  cellar"  is  ofttimes  a  dreadful  term  to  the 
little  ones  whose  first  impressions  of  that  cool,  dark 
place  arise  from  hasty  visits  deep  underground,  where 
a  huge  cistern  of  water  stands  with  the  light  playing 
in  golden  flecks  and  dancing  rings  upon  its  restless 
surface,  and  reflecting  itself  far  off  from  brown,  damp 
walls  in  rainbow-tinted  circlets  that  twinkle  and  quiver, 
and  flash  out  again,  with  all  the  strange  uncertainty 
of  elf-land.  But  there  are  suggestions  of  material 
things  as  well,  coming  from  the  scent  of  rich  preserves, 
and  rolls  of  sweet,  fresh  butter  packed  down  cool  in  an 
ice-lined  chest,  and  fragrant,  rosy  apples,  proving  that 
even  enchanted  regions  abound  in  tempting  eatables. 
Nevertheless,  they  have  lost  more  than  half  their  charm 
until  brought  out  of  that  chill-aired  place  to  the  strong, 
sweet  light  of  reassuring  day. 

But  the  little  folk  could  never  have  such  a  fear  of 
the  terrible  cellar  as  Mrs.  Mills  had  on  that  day  when 
the  Doctor  sat  dreaming  in  the  kitchen,  and  was  aroused 
by  the  startling  shriek.  It  probably  took  Lois  less  than 
half  a  minute  to  find  out  the  cause  of  this  crying  dis 
tress,  yet  to  Mrs.  Mills,  lying  helpless  and  racked  with 


THE  DOCTOR'S  SUMMER  DREAMS.  257 

agony  on  the  cold  floor  of  the  cellar,  it  seemed  like  the 
long  lapse  of  a  never-ending  span  of  time.  She  was 
dying,  she  thought,  down  there  all  alone,  her  screams 
had  not  been  heard,  and  now  she  had  no  longer  power 
to  cry  out,  while  a  cold,  suffocating  feeling,  like  the  first 
wave  of  the  dark  river,  came  creeping  over  her. 

Dr.  Knapp  of  course  was  behind  Lois  in  finding  out 
the  dire  disaster,  but  he  came  along  rather  briskly 
nevertheless,  and  rendered  valuable  assistance  by  car 
rying  the  suffering  Mrs.  Mills  up  into  the  daylight  and 
to  her  own  chamber. 

Lois  ran  for  smelling-salts  and  cold  water,  though 
the  Doctor  calmly  bade  her  not  to  use  them,  but  to  get 
bandages  and  splints  instead,  and  with  a  strength  of 
nerve  seemingly  impossible  to  one  so  conscious  of  him 
self  at  times,  he  carefully  examined  Mrs.  Mills's  arm, 
broken  above  the  elbow.  In  a  very  few  minutes  the 
bone  had  been  firmly  set  by  the  Doctor's  steady  and 
skilful  hand,  and  the  worst  of  her  pain  was  over. 

"  Oh,  Lois,  dear  ! "  were  the  first  words  she  said; 
"  don't  leave  me,  will  you? 

"  I  am  here,"  Lois  answered.  "  Keep  very  still  for  a 
while,  and  I  will  tell  you  then  what  has  happened." 

"  Oh!  bring  John  in  and  little  Jimmie;  why  are  they 
not  here?" 

"  They  have  been  sent  for,  and  will  come  in  a  few 
minutes." 

She  lay  moaning  for  a  time,  and  then  asked,  as  if 
she  really  suffered  little  pain,  and  could  think  of  mak 
ing  arrangements  for  the  future,  "  Lois,  my  dear  girl, 
you  will  not  go  away  and  leave  me?  I  could  n't  trust 
my  house  with  any  one  but  you,  and  school  will  close 


258  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

this  week,  you  know;  so  if  you  give  up  your  visit  Lome 
you  could  stay  as  well  as  not." 

"  Don't  worry,"  said  Lois,  hoping  to  avoid  a  promise. 
"  Everything  will  be  arranged  to  please  you." 

Mrs.  Mills  closed  her  eyes  and  moaned  feehly. 
"  Lois,"  she  said  again  after  a  time,  "  did  you  say  you 
would  stay  and  take  care  of  me?" 

"  Of  course,"  Lois  answered;  "I  am  right  here  taking 
care  of  you  now.  But  do  not  think  about  it.  Here  are 
Mr.  Mills  and  Jirnmie  to  see  you,"  she  added,  as  they 
entered  the  room. 

The  Doctor  prepared  to  withdraw,  cautioning  them 
to  keep  the  sufferer  very  quiet,  and  talk  but  little,  and 
in  a  moment  Lois  joined  him  where  he  sat  waiting  in 
the  parlor. 

"I  do  not  know  what  to  do,  Doctor,"  she  said.  "I 
almost  feel  as  though  I  ought  to  stay  and  take  care  of 
Mrs.  Mills,  now  that  this  unfortunate  accident  has 
happened;  and  yet  it  will  be  a  great  disappointment 
to  give  up  my  trip  home.  What  is  your  advice?" 

If  the  Doctor  had  consulted  his  selfish  feelings,  he 
would  have  answered  promptly,  "Stay";  but  he  put 
them  aside  and  considered  the  case  in  other  aspects; 
he  thought  of  Lois's  pleasant  ways,  how  helpful  she 
could  be  to  Mrs.  Mills  in  her  trouble;  he  thought  of 
the  many  pinched,  suffering  faces  in  the  old  hospital 
that  looked  eagerly  for  her  coming,  and  the  verdict 
still  was  "Stay/3  though  he  did  not  have  to  question 
his  own  lonely  heart,  that  would  lose  its  best  sunshine 
if  she  were  gone. 

He  sat  thoughtful  and  grave  for  a  moment,  but 
when  his  conscience  wholly  approved  of  his  decision,  he 


259 

looked  np  with  a  glad  light  in  his  kindly  gray  eyes  as 
he  answered,  ''I  think,  on  the  whole,  Miss  Warren,  it 
would  be  much  better  for  every  one  —  except  perhaps 
yourself — for  you  to  stay.  I  can  sec  very  readily 
that  Mrs.  Mills  depends  greatly  on  you,  and  could 
hardly  trust  another.  It  is  better  to  cheer  those  in 
suffering  than  they  who  are  strong  and  well,  is  it  not?" 

So  after  that  Lois  decided  to  stay,  and  when  Mrs. 
Mills  asked  her  again  to  remain,  as  if  the  thought 
troubled  her  and  she  must  be  assured,  Lois  was  ready 
to  answer  promptly  that  she  would. 

But  the  Doctor  was  more  pleased  than  any  one.  It 
was  a  relief  to  him,  aside  from  the  other  pleasure  he 
derived,  to  know  that  bright  and  careful  Lois  would  be 
there  to  follow  his  directions  with  religious  faithfulness, 
instead  of  some  presuming  elderly  nurse;  and  again, 
with  what  pleasure  he  looked  forward  to  seeing  Lois 
every  day,  to  consulting  her  ideas,  and  drawing  inspira 
tion  from  her  cheerful  spirit,  only  the  Doctor's  sensitive, 
lonely  heart  could  attest. 

So  the  days  wore  on  into  summer,  rich  and  golden, 
which  brought  with  it  the  red  June  roses,  the  lilies  of 
dark  purple,  and  the  full-blown  sprays  of  heavy-headed 
golden-rod;  the  wild  roses  in  the  thorny  brambles  by 
the  water  margins  lost  their  single-petalled  blossoms 
arid  held  up  seed-lobes  of  flaming  scarlet,  and  all  nature 
took  on  richer,  deeper  hues.  Over  field  and  meadow 
the  harvesters  gathered  in  their  mounds  of  sweet  wild 
hay,  and  broad  fields  of  billowy  wheat  ripened  from 
seas  of  silvery  green  into  long  stretches  richly  laden 
with  pale  gold. 

To  the   Doctor,  who  still  drove  about  in  his  high- 


260  AROUND    THE    GOLDEN    DEEP. 

wheeled  cart,  the  days  passed  by  with  shadowings  of  a 
distant  glory  on  his  dull,  beclouded  sky.  And  dreams 
came  to  him, — dreams  that  were  fairer  arid  more  golden 
than  he  had  ever  known  before;  dreams  that  purchased 
back  for  him  the  inspiration  of  his  youth,  that  only 
added  more  and  more  a  calmer,  deeper  beauty  to  his 
unselfish  life.  These  thoughts  came  not  to  him  with 
a  vague  unrest,  an  unsatisfied  longing  as  to  the  impet 
uous  fervor  of  youth;  but  day  after  day,  as  he  drove  over 
the  dusty  roads,  and  saw  the  cool  mantle  of  spring  perish 
into  coverlets  woven  of  the  matted  wild  oats  and  the 
broken  stubble,  as  the  trees  lost  their  frail  young  leaves 
and  took  on  foliage  broad  and  dark  and  dusty,  when 
no  more  the  locusts  hung  down  mellow,  sunlit  clusters 
of  fragrance  into  his  path,  still  life  retained  its  rosy  hue, 
and  he  missed  not  the  departed  spring-time,  while  he 
kept  the  merry  rhyme  of  May-day  singing  in  his  soul. 
Wherever  he  went,  he  carried  the  peace  that  reigned 
over  him,  while  from  his  dreaming  eyes  the  landscapes 
borrowed  touches  of  beauty  that  they  had  never  worn 
before. 

Lady  Snowdrop  was  not  averse  to  have  the  Doctor 
fall  a-dreaming  while  out  on  his  hot  dusty  journeys 
from  place  to  place;  she  no  doubt  heartily  approved  of 
the  habit,  and  felt  that  he  showed  most  excellent  taste 
in  thus  enjoying  himself.  And  there  were  times,  when 
a  cool  shade  tree  offered  rest  and  refreshing  shelter 
from  the  noon-day  sun,  that  the  Doctor  put  in  no  ob 
jection  whatever  when  she  presumptuously  drew  up  to 
a  dead  halt,  and  fairly  went  to  sleep  under  the  drowsy 
branches;  but  he  just  sat  and  watched  the  little  gray 
birds  that  hopped  about  with  calm,  clear  trills  of  song, 


261 

and  felt  a  kind  of  kinship  in  their  subdued,  sweet 
ecstacies. 

Lois  learned  to  like  the  Doctor  better  every  day.  She 
depended  so  much  upon  him,  and  enjoyed  so  heartily 
their  association,  that  she  came  unconsciously  to  look 
for  his  coming  with  a  thrill  of  pleasure,  and  even  to 
put  on  a  snowier  apron  and  place  a  fresh  rosebud  in 
her  bright  wavy  hair  when  the  hour  drew  near  for  his 
arrival.  There  was  nothing  strange  in  this.  She  re 
spected  the  Doctor  more  than  any  man  she  knew,  she 
enjoyed  his  society  more,  so  no  wonder  she  uncon 
sciously  learned  to  compare  her  thoughts  with  his;  to 
ask  his  advice,  and  admire  his  broad,  deep,  manly 
character. 

Lois's  visits  to  the  hospital  ceased  altogether  after 
Mrs.  Mills's  accident,  and  she  missed  them  more  than 
ever  now  that  she  was  deprived  of  her  daily  walks  to 
school.  But  one  day  when  the  Doctor  unexpectedly 
called  as  she  was  dusting  and  hurrying  about  with  her 
work,  he  noticed  that  her  face  had  lost  much  of  that 
fresh  fair  bloom  it  used  to  have,  and  her  blue  eyes 
wanted  some  of  their  old  sparkle  and  life;  so  he  said, 
in  the  modest,  retiring  way  he  had  of  making  sugges 
tions,  "  Miss  Warren,  don't  you  think  one  of  our  old 
drives  out  to  Tenayee  would  do  you  some  good  just 
now?  It  don't  do  to  stay  at  home  too  long,  even  to 
take  care  of  sick  folks." 

The  idea  struck  her  pleasantly,  and  a  radiant  smile 
lighted  her  face  as  she  answered,  "  I  have  been  wishing 
for  the  time  to  come  when  I  could  go  again." 

She  selected  the  following  Monday  as  the  most  con 
venient  day  to  go,  and  arranged  to  have  Mrs.  Platt 
care  for  Mrs.  Mills  during  her  absence. 


262  AKOUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

The  two  ladies  had  a  whole  day  to  themselves,  which 
quite  delighted  Mrs.  Mills,  who,  of  course,  took  the 
lead  in  all  discussions.  But  her  confinement  in-doors 
had  deprived  her  of  any  outside  talk;  and  besides,  there 
were  some  things  about  Lois  she  thought  quite  neces 
sary  to  relate.  So  she  opened  the  conversation  about 
the  school-mistress  the  first  thing.  Most  likely  if  she 
had  had  all  the  summer  to  discuss  the  affair  in,  told 
all  she  had  seen,  and  believed  herself  all  she  sug 
gested,  it  would  have  reached  enormous  proportions 
now.  However,  this  was  the  first  opportunity  she  had 
been  blessed  with  since  the  day  of  her  misfortune,  for 
Lois  had  been  a  constant  attendant  ever  since,  and  she 
had  to  take  up  the  subject  exactly  where  she  left  off. 

UI  suppose,"  she  began,  turning  her  face  so  that  the 
cool  air  from  Mrs.  Platt's  fanning  would  strike  her 
better,  —  "I  suppose  the  people  round  town  miss  seeing 
Lois  and  her  medical  friend  these  days.  But  /  don't,  I 
can  assure  you.  I  see  quite  enough  even  when  I  am 
fastened  down  here,  hardly  able  to  move,  to  convince 
me  that  it 's  just  as  I  told  you  once  before.  They  must 
be  engaged,  or  something  pretty  near  it,  she  is  so  atten 
tive.  Why,  actually  every  call  he  makes,  —  and  they 
were  pretty  frequent  at  first,  —  she  escorts  him  to  the 
door,  and  they  have  charming,  confidential  little  chats 
out  there  in  the  vines,  but  I  never  overhear  anything 
that  is  said,  they  talk  so  low.  That  is  a  suspicious 
circumstance,  —  don't  you  think  so?  " 

"  Perhaps  they  are  talking  over  what  is  best  to  do 
for  you,  and  do  not  wish  to  let  you  hear,"  suggested 
Mrs.  Platt. 

"  0  yes,  possibly.     But  their  talks  are  too  lengthy 


THE  DOCTOR'S  SUMMER  DREAMS.  263 

for  that.  They  would  have  to  tell  all  the  history  of  my 
life  over  twice  in  order  to  talk  so  long.  I  think  they 
are  planning,  —  I'm  sure  I  do.  It  will  be  too  bad  if 
we  have  to  get  another  teacher  for  the  school,  though. 
The  children  are  used  to  Lois,  and  like  her,  —  all  of 
them.  Besides,  they  learn  remarkably  fast.  I  really 
believe  other  people  were  beginning  to  suspect  some 
thing,  for  Mrs.  Dean,  who  was  in  here  the  other  day 
when  the  Doctor  called,  noticed  that  he  and  Lois  had 
a  great  deal  of  business  out  in  the  parlor,  and  a  remark 
was  made  —  I  think  she  suggested  it — about  Lois 
being  plenty  old  enough  to  think  of  getting  married. 
She  said  that  young  man  Lois  used  to  think  so  much 
of  ought  to  be  forgotten  by  this  time.  He  was  not 
worthy,  anyway,  of  such  remembrance,  in  my  mind; 
and  those  rumors  that  were  floating  around  about  him 
after  he  left  I  more  than  half  believe,  though  I  wish 
not  to  disturb  the  repose  nor  revive  the  forgotten  trans 
gressions  of  the  dead." 

Mrs.  Platt  was  of  the  opinion  that  Lois  was  not 
nursing  any  unhappy  regrets  for  the  past.  u  She  is  so 
cheerful,  you  know,  Mrs.  Mills,  that  there  is  scarcely 
any  possibility  of  that,  although  I  own  she  seemed  very 
devoted  for  a  while.  It  is  nothing  out  of  the  way,  I 
think,  that  she  does  not  turn  her  thoughts  to  such 
things.  The  right  one  probably  has  not  come  along 
yet;  and  then,  Lois's  life  must  be  a  pleasant  one,  for 
she  loves  her  work,  and  has  so  many  friends,  while  her 
cares  never  fret,  but  only  interest,  her";  and  Mrs. 
Platt  felt  well  satisfied  after  she  had  said  this,  slyly 
thinking  that  she  had  done  a  good  turn  for  Lois,  and 
quite  likely  Mrs.  Hunman  would  find  a  chance  to 


264  AROUND    THE    GOLDEN    DEEP. 

make  it  convenient  for  the  Doctor  to  further  his  plans 
that  very  day. 

But  Mrs.  Hunman  had  slightly  misunderstood  the 
matter,  and  planned  differently  to  put  in  her  helping 
touch.  Her  honest  old  soul  never  knew  the  force  of  a 
hint  of  any  kind,  and  all  her  work  had  to  be  done  in 
.her  own  straightforward  style;  and  as  for  making  sug 
gestive  opportunities,  or  for  artful  management,  it  was 
as  foreign  to  her  old-fashioned  ideas  as  fancy  skating  to 
an  artificial  leg. 

Dr.  Knapp  and  Lois  had  a  pleasant  drive  out  through 
the  summer-clothed  pastures  before  the  heat  of  day 
came  on.  The  roads  were  dusty,  and  Lois's  dress  in 
this  season  was  of  light,  fluffy  material  that  was  easily 
damaged,  so  the  Doctor  was  careful  to  drive  slowly  and 
raise  as  little  dust  as  possible,  until  they  got  near  Ten- 
ayee,  which  was  rather  a  pretentious  place,  and  watered 
its  roads  for  some  distance  out.  Lady  Snowdrop  fa 
vored  the  idea,  too,  perhaps  because  she  herself  wore 
a  coat  that  was  easily  soiled,  but  more  likely  because 
she  objected  to  much  exertion  in  summer-time.  On 
the  way  out  they  were  overtaken  by  Horace  Graham, 
Jr.,  on  horseback,  the  young  gentleman  who  admired 
Lois,  and  had  made  the  speech  which  Mrs.  Mills  once 
took  occasion  to  repeat  to  Mrs.  Platt. 

He  rode  up  beside  the  cart,  and  liking  company 
better  than  travelling  alone,  endured  Snowdrop's  slow 
gait  for  the  sake  of  enjoying  a  social  chat. 

"  How  now,  Miss  Warren,"  he  said,  in  a  bantering 
tone,  "do  you  find  time  to  thrash  the  rising  generation 
with  apple  bark  since  Mrs.  Mills  broke  her  arm  ?  It 's 
too  bad.  I've  thought  sometimes  I'd  like  to  turn 


THE  DOCTOR'S  SUMMER  DREAMS.  265 

into  a  youngster  myself  to  get  a  licking  from  so  fair  a 
hand." 

"  Maybe  you  would  n't  have  to  change  into  anything 
to  deserve  one,"  replied  Lois,  lightly. 

"  Come  now,  good  brother,"  said  Horace,  appealing 
to  the  Doctor,  "  should  n't  you  think  that  superan 
nuated  little  snail  you  drive  there  would  feel  rather 
nervous  to  drag  along  anybody  who  has  such  a  repu 
tation  for  the  application  of  the  rod  as  your  accom 
panying  friend  ?  " 

"  Well,"  returned  the  other,  laughing,  "  I  don't  know 
that  I  've  ever  heard  of  anything  surprising  in  that  line. 
Can't  you  give  me  an  instance  ?  " 

"  Ha,  ha  !  You  just  ought  to  have  one  from  the 
belligerent  little  school-ma'am  yourself.  But"  —  with 
just  a  tinge  of  jealousy,  perhaps,  and  hating  to  lose  the 
opportunity  for  a  sly  hit — "I  can  just  bet  you  don't 
get  any  of  it,  or  see  any  of  it,  either,  by  the  looks  of 
things  at  the  present  speaking." 

The  ire  of  the  school-mistress  was  kindled  to  the 
blazing-point  in  a  moment.  "The  effrontery  of  such  a 
speech  !  And  to  me,  too! — the  impudent  fellow  !  "  she 
thought.  "  This  cannot  and  will  not  be  overlooked.  I 
must  show  him  his  place  at  an  early  day,"  she  decided. 

But  the  Doctor  took  it  upon  himself  to  answer,  and 
turned  it  off  lightly  by  saying,  "  That  is  because  I  am 
on  the  right  side,  you  see.  I  expect  if  I  should  let  her 
drive  and  took  the  left-hand  seat  myself,  you  would 
have  something  of  an  increase  in  the  dust  you  take"; 
and  drawing  up  the  reins  he  urged  Lady  Snowdrop 
into  a  faster  movement. 

Young   Horace   rode  along   behind,  laughing  quite 


266  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

heartily,  —  in  reality  because  he  had  called  up  a  faint 
blush  to  Lois's  cheek,  and  so  thought  she  had  betrayed 
herself,  —  while  he  called  out  in  ranting  stylo,  "I  told 
you  that  you  have  the  right  side,  and  your  little  pacer, 
too;  but  I  should  advise  you  to  find  out  all  about  her 
whaling  propensities  before  —  Down  came  the  fish- 
rod  whip  for  the  first  time  upon  the  unsuspecting  Lady 
Snowdrop,  up  flew  the  dust  in  vigorous  clouds,  and  the 
rest  of  the  sentence,  as  well  as  the  jocund  speaker, 
were  drowned  in  an  earthy  embrace. 

"  Mr.  Graham  never  tires  of  referring  to  the  amuse 
ment  he  felt  one  day  when  he  discovered  me  punishing 
a  refractory  little  rebel  at  school,"  explained  Lois. 

"  You  might  have  extended  the  courtesy  to  him  with 
good  effect,"  responded  her  companion,  who  was  thor 
oughly  disgusted. 

When  the  sport-loving  young  man  again  caught  up  to 
his  friends,  he  thought  it  wiser  to  dispense  with  fun 
for  the  time,  and  fearing  he  might  have  offended  the 
Doctor  by  an  impolite  reference  to  his  horse,  —  he  never 
once  suspected  Lois  had  cause  for  offence,  because  the 
girls  liked  everything  he  did,  anyway,  —  devoted  him 
self  to  being  as  agreeable  as  he  could  to  that  forgiving 
personage  as  long  as  he  could  endure  the  slow  travel 
ling;  and  when  he  thought  he  had  mended  matters, 
said  to  the  Doctor  that  likely  they  would  meet  at  Mrs. 
Hunman's,  since  he  had  met  Byron  at  a  horse-race, 
where  they  had  planned  to  "swap  nags,"  and  then  gal 
loped  on  out  of  sight. 

After  that  the  Doctor  drove  on  slowly  as  before,  feel 
ing  that  some  fulfilment  of  his  golden  visions  was 
complete  with  good  little  Lois  there  beside  him,  warm- 


THE  DOCTOR'S  SUMMER  DREAMS.  267 

ing  up  his  kindly  old  heart  to  a  perfect  Elysium  of 
happiness. 

Remembering  the  fact  afterward,  he  felt  very  thank 
ful  for  the  slight  delay,  for  by  prolonging  that  happy 
hour  with  her,  he  postponed  for  a  little  time  a  coming 
sorrow. 


268  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

CHAPTER    XX. 

THE    FINAL    RECKONING. 

She  stood  as  stands  the  stricken  deer, 
Caught  midway  in  the  fearful  chase. 

WHITTIER. 

WHEN  Nita  had  reached  the  cabin  she  called  home, 
twilight  had  long  since  deepened  into  night,  —  a  night 
dark  and  chill  with  south  winds,  which  winged  across 
the  frozen  summits  and  grew  cold  as  those  aged  moun 
tain  brows,  bare  and  ghostly  and  faintly  outlined  like 
spectres  in  the  starlight.  The  winds  came  tearing 
down  the  heights,  tossing  among  the  pine-tops,  and 
roaring  through  the  gorges.  Before  it  the  moist  at 
mosphere  of  the  Indian  summer-tide  turned  inky  black 
and  thick  with  storm-clouds  that  banked  up  against 
the  hills  and  left  only  glimpses  of  the  serene  heavens, 
alight  with  still,  pale  stars  and  a  slender,  silvery  moon 
that  seemed  to  shrink  from  the  darkness  beneath. 

Had  Nita  been  the  spirit  of  this  wild  gathering  storm, 
she  could  not  have  seemed  more  a  part  of  it.  Her  dark, 
startled  eyes  looking  wildly  out  from  their  jetty  brows 
and  lashes,  her  blanched  cheek,  and  the  dashing  fierce 
ness  of  her  motions  were  all  in  harmony  with  the  stormy 
commotion  around  her. 

She  sprang  upon  the  porch  with  a  bound,  and  burst 
into  the  dingy  living-room  which  was  but  half  lighted 
by  the  glow  of  a  small  lamp.  Her  father  and  mother 
had  finished  their  supper,  and  were  waiting  rather  un- 


THE  FINAL  RECKONING.  269 

easily  for  the  truant.  As  Nita  began  to  eat  the  bowlful 
of  bread  and  milk  which  had  been  left  for  her  on  the 
bare  pine  table,  her  father  turned  toward  her,  grum 
bling,  with  his  pipe  in  his  mouth,  and  still  cutting  and 
crumbling  the  tobacco  which  he  had  been  preparing  to 
fill  it. 

"Arrah  there,  Nita,  you  mind  that  you  are  not  to  stay 
BO  late.  It 's  a  sorry  way  for  the  likes  of  you  now,  it 
is,  do  ye  hear?" 

"  The  bell-cow  got  beyond  the  creek,  and  I  could  n't 
find  her  anyhow,"  she  replied,  timidly. 

"The  bell-cow,  is  it  now?  I  milked  her  meself  be 
fore  dark." 

Nita  shrank  from  his  stern  gaze,  and  laid  down  her 
spoon;  then  the  tender  heart  of  the  father  regained  its 
usual  sway.  "  Mind  what  I  tells  ye,  girl,"  he  added, 
in  a  gentler  tone,  "  and  come  now  and  loight  me  pipe. 
It 's  been  a  harud  day  fur  yer  old  dad,  an'  he  needs  a 
comfort  now." 

In  truth,  the  idlers  up  at  the  mine  had  vexed  his 
soul  not  a  little.  He  could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to 
side  with  them  against  one  whom  he  knew  to  be  stanch 
and  true  to  the  highest  principles  of  manhood,  although 
he  might  not  fully  comprehend  such  a  character.  He 
had  worked  with  Edward  Dennett's  father  in  the  old 
mine  years  ago,  when  Edward  was  a  school-boy,  and 
he  had  known  the  lad  from  his  youth. 

A  man  who  possessed  the  cultivation  and  bearing  of 
a  gentlemen,  and  added  to  these  the  principles  of  jus 
tice  and  truth,  constituted  his  ideal  of  what  a  gentle 
man  should  be.  And  Edward  Dennett  filled  this  as 
well  as  his  father  had  before  him. 


270  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

"Begorra,  boys,"  he  had  said  to  the  strikers,  "a  jin- 
tleman  whin  he  's  a-bossing  of  a  job  don't  want  folks 
a-smokin'  and  cussin'  around  now.  Ye  all  know  that, 
an'  it 's  divil  a  bit  o'  luck  '11  come  out  o'  this,  I  can  tell 
ye." 

When  Nita  had  reached  home  so  late,  her  disobe 
dience  had  seemed  a  spice  of  insubordination  and  ob 
stinacy  like  that  of  the  strikers  which  had  tried  him 
all  day,  and  so  the  voice  that  usually  fell  only  in  words 
of  tenderness  and  praise  upon  Nita's  ear  now  smote  it 
with  blame,  which,  though  merited,  rankled  and  stung 
in  a  heart  already  seething  and  heaving  with  angry 
passion,  like  the  fires  beneath  a  volcanic  crater. 

With  the  same  set  features  and  flashing,  downcast 
eyes,  she  filled  the  pipe,  drawing  it  while  she  held  the 
flickering  match  to  the  weed  it  contained,  and  blowing 
the  wreaths  of  smoke  from  her  mobile,  cherry-colored 
lips  in  a  manner  that  showed  this  to  be  a  familiar 
duty.  But  surely  her  small,  even  teeth,  as  white  as 
purest  pearls,  bore  witness  that  she  had  not  yet  fol 
lowed  her  parent's  example  in  the  use  of  tobacco.  The 
old  man  pulled  off  his  boots  meanwhile,  and  sat  toast 
ing  his  feet  by  the  fire,  and  on  receiving  his  pipe, 
smiled  and  chucked  Nita  pleasantly  under  the  chin, 
and  then  relapsed  into  his  dozing.  As  usual,  her  mother, 
a  corpulent  old  Spanish  woman,  whose  abundant  hair 
of  raven  blackness,  arid  still  fine  eyes,  were  all  that 
remained  of  her  former  charms,  reclined  upon  an  old 
sofa  covered  with  once  brilliant  but  now  soiled  and 
faded  chintz.  She  was  indolent  and  luxurious  like 
her  Spanish  ancestors,  whom  she  so  closely  resembled 
in  feature  and  disposition;  and  no  fair  senora,  under 


THE   FINAL   RECKONING.  271 

the  lemon  boughs  of  Seville,  could  have  rolled  her 
cigarette  more  coquettishly  than  did  this  drowsy  old 
dame,  merely  from  habit  implanted  by  nature. 

Poor  Nita  was  thus  left  alone  to  struggle  with  the 
furies  which  had  taken  possession  of  her  breast.  Me 
chanically  she  washed  the  bowl  that  had  contained 
her  light  supper,  and  poured  fresh  water  into  the  basin 
for  the  watch-dogs.  Then  she  walked  restlessly  about 
the  rooms  until  her  father  went  to  bed,  and  her  mother 
scowled  upon  her  for  the  noise;  so  she  slipped  quietly 
out  again  into  the  darkness  of  the  gloomy  night,  where 
the  blasts  beat  ag.ainst  the  house,  and  seemed  to  roll 
over  the  pine-tops,  making  them  bow  and  shriek  with 
far-off,  unearthly  voices  that  filled  the  gorges  with  their 
groans. 

Her  heart  was  aching,  notwithstanding  the  scorn  and 
humiliation  that  maddened  her. 

"False,  false  and  cruel!"  she  moaned,  ravelling 
out  unconsciously  her  long,  smooth  braids,  and  hurry 
ing  through  the  woods  fearlessly,  half-blinded  by  her 
anguish.  Back  and  forth  she  paced,  her  white  face 
gleaming  from  the  darkness  that  enfolded  her,  some 
times  bursting  into  sobs  and  wringing  her  hands  with 
all  the  fierceness  of  the  hot  Spanish  blood  that  made 
her  a  veritable  harp  of  feeling,  the  music  of  which  is 
pleasure  or  pain,  and  this  was  pain, — the  pain  of  un 
requited  love,  of  remorse  and  self-humiliation,  and  of 
despair. 

Those  sad,  tender  eyes,  and  forgiving,  outstretched 
arms  of  her  husband,  had  been  more  cruel  than  harsh 
upbraiding.  "  My  poor,  little,  strayed  lamb,  I  should 
not  have  left  you,"  he  had  said,  in  a  voice  tender  as  a 


272  ABOUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

mother's,  while  she  leaned  against  a  tall  pine  trunk 
like  some  brilliant,  bending  lily  that  had  found  support 
by  its  rough  sides.  Her  hands  had  been  clasped  be 
hind  her,  as  if  to  make  sure  that  he  should  not  take 
them.  Her  proud  little  head  had  been  bent  with 
shame,  and  her  cheek  as  crimson  as  if  the  .last 
fading  rose  of  twilight  emanated  from  its  rounded 
velvet  surface.  Her  words  of  self-reproach  and  her 
backwardness  he  could  not  understand.  To  him  these 
had  been  only  manifestations  of  native  coyness.  And 
had  he  not  been  gone  a  long  while  ?  A  child  soon  for 
gets;  true,  she  was  more  than  a  child,  but  to  him  she 
seemed  only  little  more,  and  this  shyness  merely  im 
plied  a  renewal  of  their  courtship.  With  a  smile  on 
his  lips  he  had  approached  as  gently  as  if  she  had  been 
a  young  bird. 

"  I  will  take  better  care  of  you  now,  my  little  Nita; 
BO  just  one  kiss  to  show  that  you  have  not  quite  forgot 
ten  — "  But  she  had  shrunk  back,  confounded  and  self- 
condemned  by  her  own  utter  falseness.  She  knew  that 
he  thought  her  still  the  hopeful,  joyous  child-wife  whom 
he  had  left. 

In  the  fading  twilight  he  had  not  seen  that  she  was 
changed.  Her  regard  for  him  had  been  but  a  child's 
gratitude,  because  he  had  pleased  her  with  the  promise 
of  coveted  toys.  Now  a  grand  passion  had  come  to 
her  life,  making  her  a  woman,  —  one  that  was  full  of 
the  fire  and  fierceness  of  a  tropic  clime;  and  at  this 
moment  the  deep,  all-sweeping  tide  of  this  master  pas 
sion  had  been  lashed  to  a  storm  of  fury,  dashing  back 
from  sunken  rocks  upon  her  poor,  untried,  and  un- 
Bchooled  soul,  that  was  frenzied  with  the  shock. 


THE   FINAL   RECKONING.  273 

With  a  scream  of  terror  she  had  fled,  and  disap 
peared  through  the  forests.  No  thought  of  the  treas 
ures  he  had  promised,  no  memory  of  their  vows,  could 
bring  calmness  or  relief. 

While  wandering  up  and  down,  she  recalled  her  hus 
band's  goodness  and  faithfulness  to  herself,  until  she 
sank  down  and  leaned  her  cheek  upon  the  dust,  for 
shame  that  she  did  not  merit,  and  could  not  reward, 
this  noble  devotion.  Then  came  the  thought  of  that 
other.  She  lived  over  again  every  scene  connected 
with  him,  and  recalling  their  first  meeting,  she 
writhed  with  the  memory  of  the  insult  he  had  of 
fered.  Oh,  how  plainly  could  she  see  his  perfidy  and 
her  own  blindness! 

Revenge!  This  thought  fired  her  brain  with  a  new 
purpose.  She  knew  how  easily  she  could  spill  the  life- 
blood  of  the  wretch  who  had  so  ruthlessly  broken  her 
heart  for  idle  pastime;  and  yet  with  a  second's  reflec 
tion,  her  unperverted  intuition  taught  her  what  an  un 
satisfying  thing  this  revenge  would  prove. 

She,  with  her  weak  hand,  might  strike  out  his  life; 
but  when  he  was  gone,  the  same  fierce  agony  which  he 
had  caused  must  forever  wring  her  heart  with  pain,  re 
coiling  upon  herself,  since  there  would  be  no  object 
against  which  she  could  direct  it.  So  she  sank  down 
again. 

The  reckoning  hour  with  conscience  had  come,  which 
all  must  know  who  leave  the  path  of  uprightness  for 
that  of  evil.  If  she  could  survive  this  struggle,  she 
must  either  repent,  or  become  hardened  and  lost  in  the 
ways  of  sin.  Who,  born  and  bred  in  these  temples  of 
nature,  pillared  with  living  shafts  which  God  had 


274  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

raised,  and  walled  in  with  the  eternal  mountains, 
could  forsake  his  whole  former  life,  and  deliberately 
pursue  still,  amid  such  surroundings,  the  treacherous 
ignis  fatuus  in  the  swamps  of  sin?  Surely  she  could 
not.  But  victory  left  her  a  hopeless  wreck,  condemned 
by  her  own  soul,  so  hopeless  and  broken  that  she  would 
not  arise  from  the  earth,  upon  which  she  lay  prone,  until 
she  had  unsheathed  her  little  secret  dagger  and  vowed 
to  end  her  life.  With  a  dash  of  the  tragic,  which 
always  belongs  to  a  nature  like  hers,  she  bared  her 
breast,  and  pressed  the  keen  edge  of  the  dagger  to  her 
burning,  throbbing  bosom.  The  chill  of  the  steel 
awakened  a  thought,  and  with  the  impulse  she  sprang 
up.  "  He  is  good.  I  will  go  to  him  and  beg  his  for 
giveness,  and  then  die  and  go  to  my  God,"  she  re- 
folved,  and  bounded  away  through  the  black  forest 
like  a  young  panther. 

The  wind  blew  sharp  and  chill  around  her,  but  she 
was  unconscious  of  the  cold;  the  brambles  and  bushes 
caught  her  long,  dishevelled  hair,  but  she  tore  it  away 
from  their  gnarled,  crackling  fingers,  heedless  of  the 
pain.  She  knew  well  where  she  could  find  her  hus 
band,  and  the  darkness  hid  not  her  path.  It  was  down 
beyond  the  bushy  swale,  across  the  gorge1,  up  the  slope 
past  the  town,  and  then  down  the  steep  road  that  wound 
into  the  caiiori.  She  knew  the  room  lie  would  occupy 
in  her  brother-in-law's  house.  A  tap  on  the  window 
would  bring  him  out,  and  she  would  tell  him  all,  and 
kneel  before  him  for  the  forgiveness  which  she  knew 
she  would  receive  from  a  husband  so  loving  and  faith 
ful,  and  —  then  the  dagger.  She  clutched  it  tighter,  to 
make  sure  of  its  safety.  Ah  I  well  she  knew  its  keen 


THE    FINAL    RECKONING.  275 

edge  and  glittering  beauty!  It  was  her  mother's,  and 
she  had  often  thought  it  looked  like  a  willow  leaf,  long 
and  slender,  transformed  to  purest,  brightest  silver. 
And  it  should  stay  in  her  wicked  heart  and  rust  there 
till  the  judgment-day.  She  imagined  this  would  be 
a  sort  of  penance  for  her  sin.  As  she  was  hastening 
along  the  slope,  just  north  of  the  town,  suddenly  she 
stopped,  and  a  strange,  new  terror  took  possession  of 
her,  freezing  the  blood  in  her  veins,  stiffening  those 
swift,  supple  limbs,  and  making  her  wild  midnight 
e}Tes  stony  with  amazement. 

She  stood  petrified,  as  if  she  could  never  move  from 
the  spot,  while  her  burning  brain  comprehended  every 
detail  of  the  sight  upon  which  her  gaze  was  riveted. 


276  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

THE    FADING   DREAM. 

As  fades  the  luminous  carmine  of  the  dawn 
To  eyes  that  gaze  on  life's  turmoil  and  strife, 

So  fades  the  dream  of  love,  bright,  heaven-born, 
Dragged  to  the  level  of  a  common  life. 

Selected. 

AFTER  their  visit  to  the  hospital  was  over,  Lois  and 
the  Doctor  drove  up  to  Mrs.  Hunman's,  but  there  was 
no  answer  to  their  repeated  rings.  "Everybody  seems 
to  be  out,"  said  the  Doctor,  looking  at  his  watch.  "And 
yet  this  is  one  of  the  days  when  I  am  expected,  and  we 
are  not  too  early,  either.  O,  I  have  guessed  it  now. 
Perhaps  Mrs.  Hunman  is  at  the  back  of  the  house 
superintending  her  weekly  washing,  for  this  is  Mon 
day,  and  Mr.  Hunman,  who  generally  attends  to  it, 
complained  of  a  toothache  on  my  last  visit,  and  quite 
likely  is  not  able  to  do  it  to-day." 

He  had  scarcely  finished  speaking  when  Horace 
Graham,  Jr.,  came  up  the  walk,  a  mischievous  smile 
breaking  over  his  face  as  he  comprehended  the  situa 
tion.  "What's  up?"  he  called.  "Have  they  locked 
you  out?  You  will  have  to  go  without  your  dinner 
now,  sure;  but  never  mind,  since  your  appetites  are  not 
likely  to  be  extra  good,  anyway.  You  '11  both  do,  I 
guess,  if  you  don't  get  any.  But  just  think  of  poor  me 
going  plumb  to  starvation.  I  could  eat  snails,  I  'in  so 
hungry  already." 


THE   FADING  DREAM.  277 

Lois  faced  him  with  a  look  that  was  very  severe  to 
come  from  eyes  so  charmingly  blue  and  merry  as  hers. 

"  Well,  you  won't  have  to  starve,  until  I  investigate 
further,"  said  the  good  old  Doctor,  venturing  around 
through  the  luxuriant  garden  toward  the  back  of  the 
house.  Ah!  I  have  found  some  one,"  he  said,  looking 
around  and  beckoning  for  the  others  to  follow  him. 
"  See  how  accurately  I  can  guess,"  he  added. 

"You  have  already  had  an  example  of  how  expert  1 
am  at  that,"  said  Horace,  as  they  joined  the  Doctor. 

It  was  wash-day  at  the  Hunman  residence,  sure 
enough.  The  shady  back  yard  had  been  converted 
into  a  laundry,  and  tubs  of  snowy  clothes,  pails  of  blu 
ing,  and  pans  of  starch  stood  here  and  there  about  the 
terraced  steps  leading  down  from  the  hot,  steaming 
kitchen;  wflile  under  a  leafy  tree,  in  the  deepest  shadow, 
Nettie  was  at  work  in  the  milky  suds,  busily  rubbing 
up  and  down,  unconscious  of  intruders.  She  made  a 
sweet  little  picture  there,  facing  a  hedge  of  flowering 
pease  growing  up  through  a  mass  of  low  currant-bushes. 
It  was  just  the  proper  setting  for  such  a  girl  as  she, — - 
a  place  where  she  could  use  up  her  superfluous  temper, 
and  seem  quite  docile  and  even  pretty,  with  her  cool, 
light  dress  fastened  loosely  about  her  neck,  where  stray, 
damp  locks  curled  up  bewitchingly  in  little  rings,  and 
her  plump,  dimpled  arms  blushing  pinkly  through  the 
foamy  suds.  There  was  a  suggestion  of  robust  health 
in  her  bright,  red  cheeks  and  in  the  pale,  gold  freckles 
that  seemed  to  be  showering  down  from  the  sunshiny 
sky  through  the  shadowy  branches  above  her  in  tiny 
specks  of  light,  over  face  and  neck  and  arms  alike. 

She  looked  up  suddenly  from  her  work  and  saw  the 


278  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

Doctor  coming  through  the  hollyhocks,  followed  by  the 
others,  and  her  quick,  round  eyes  did  not  fail  to  notice 
that  Lois  was  behind  him.  She  bowed  and  looked  at 
them  with  a  sour  face. 

"  You  must  n't  come  around  into  people's  back  yards 
unless  you  expect  to  find  them  in  uncomfortable  plight, 
and  take  your  share  of  suds,"  she  said,  with  a  decided 
vim  in  her  tone. 

"  She  is  n't  going  to  throw  any,  is  she?  "  asked  Hor 
ace,  affectedly,  of  Lois. 

"  Is  your  grandma  at  home?"  asked  the  Doctor. 

"  Certainly.  Am  I  not  out  here  scrubbing  away 
alone  because  she  had  to  be  in-doors  fixing  dinner  for 
you?  You  see  our  wash-woman  could  not  come  to 
day,  and  grandma  and  I  have  had  to  manage  with  the 
work  ourselves.  So  we  are  late,"  she  sai^  her  voice 
softening  a  little,  and  her  eyes  glancing  slyly  toward 
Horace. 

"  But  no  one  answered  our  ring  at  the  front  door," 
said  Dr.  Knapp.  "  That  is  why  I  came  around  here." 

"There!  I  know  why  she  didn't  hear  it;  of  course 
she  's  asleep.  Grandpa  kept  the  whole  house  up  last 
night  with  his  toothache." 

"Well,  don't  disturb  her,  then,"  said  the  Doctor, 
considerately.  "  We  will  sit  down  here  in  the  garden 
till  she  wakes." 

"  Observe  me  obeying  the  governor's  decision  imme 
diately,"  said  Horace,  perching  himself  upon  the  end 
of  a  box,  and  throwing  pebbles  at  a  hen. 

"O  yes,  I  must,"  said  Nettie.  "Why,  she  would 
scold  me  if  I  did  n't  wake  her  ";  so  she  told  them  to  go 
around  to  the  front  door  and  she  would  be  there  to 


THE    FADING    DREAM.  279 

receive  them.  Horace  rose  and  kicked  over  the  box 
that  had  served  him,  looking  back  at  Nettie  as  they 
walked  away,  and  in  a  tone  that  was  intended  to  be 
low,  but  which  sounded  gratingly  harsh  on  the  still 
ness,  said  to  the  Doctor,  "  Is  n't  she  a  little  savage?  " 

When  good-natured  Mrs.  Hunman  received  her 
visitors,  she  was  instantly  reminded  of  Mrs.  Plait's 
instructions,  and  resolved  to  perform  them  faithfully. 

Horace,  who  was  a  stranger  to  the  family,  but  who 
had  struck  up  a  wonderful  friendship  with  Byron  on 
a  remarkably  short  acquaintance,  remained  to  dinner, 
and  rather  put  a  restraint  on  the  good  old  lady's  inten 
tions.  But  after  the  meal,  when  the  young  men  went 
out  to  "  swap  nags,"  she  opened  the  subject  in  solid 
earnest. 

"  Well,  Doctor,"  she  began,  "  I  suppose  you  find 
these  hot  days  rather  uncomfortable,  now  that  you  are 
getting  a  little  old?" 

44  Yes,"  said  the  Doctor,  passing  his  hand  through 
his  hair  when  reminded  of  its  gray  threads,  —  "yes,  I 
do  find  the  heat  somewhat  unpleasant." 

But  Mrs.  Hunnian  did  not  intend  to  allow  him  to 
ignore  her  reference  to  his  age  in  that  way. 

"When  a  person's  not  overly  young,"  she  said, 
"  they  don't  stand  a  very  good  chance  to  get  along 
well.  They  can't  put  up  with  the  warm  weather  as 
comfortably  as  when  they  were  young,  nor  get  through 
the  world  so  good  in  anything;  and  particularly,  they 
don't  have  such  a  good  show  in  matrimony." 

Lois  blushed,  and  the  Doctor  grew  nervous,  and 
pulled  out  his  handkerchief  to  wipe  his  forehead,  but 
he  was  fortunate  enough  to  think  of  a  reply. 


280  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"You  are  right,  Mrs.  Hunman,"  he  said.  "Age 
robs  one  of  his  best  forces,  but  it  adds  experience  to 
make  up  a  little  for  the  deficiency." 

"Seems  to  me,  Doctor,"  she  continued,  "You  ought 
to  be  thinking  of  getting  married  yourself,  before  you 
get  so  old  you  can't  find  anybody  to  have  you.  Why 
don't  you  think  about  it?  " 

The  Doctor  looked  as  if  he  had  received  a  blow.  His 
feelings  were  so  sensitive  and  delicate  that  anything 
presented  so  bluntly  as  Mrs.  Hunman's  volunteered 
advice  seemed  to  him  incomparably  coarse  and  shock 
ing.  He  grew  very  red  over  it,  but  notwithstanding 
his  usual  embarrassment  in  such  positions,  he  managed 
to  think  of  something  that  would  tend  to  put  an  end 
to  the  conversation  on  this  subject.  He  said,  "  Your 
idea  may  be  worthy  of  consideration,  Mrs.  Hunman,  but 
that  is  a  matter  I  do  not  care  to  discuss  publicly." 

"Well,  well,"  said  the  innocent  old  lady  laughing, 
"  the  idea  occurred  because  you  and  your  friend  here 
look  so  nice  together."  She  was  determined  not  to  be 
put  off  without  saying  it  in  some  way. 

"  It  seems  to  me"  interposed  Lois,  pleasantly,  but  not 
without  tumultuous  feelings  because  of  the  reference  to 
herself,  "  that  such  ideas  should  not  enter  your  mind 
unless  they  also  enter  the  minds  of  those  concerned. 
They  may  not  always  be  entirely  welcome,  Mrs.  Hun 
man."  She  added  that  last  sentence  for  the  Doctor's 
sake,  knowing  that  his  native  gallantry  would  prevent 
him  from  giving  such  a  hint,  feeling  its  necessity,  and 
yet  believing  that  he  would  wish  it  said. 

Still  that  last  sentence  crushed  all  the  romantic 
hopes  the  Doctor  cherished,  it  dissolved  a  thousand 


THE    FADING    DREAM.  281 

little  pictures  he  had  dreamed  of,  and  it  quenched  the 
sunshine  out  of  an  otherwise  dull  and  rayless  future; 
but  he  sat  without  a  tremor,  and  went  on  gravely  with 
the  conversation  that  followed,  in  the  face  of  a  deadly 
pain. 

It  did  not  add  to  his  comfort  that  Nettie  was  on  the 
war-path  that  day,  and  went  around  sulkily  watching 
her  chance  to  do  or  say  something  to  annoy  Lois.  But 
the  latter  young  lady  was  not  in  the  least  discomposed. 
She  talked  away  as  cheerily  as  ever;  insisted  on  being 
allowed  to  try  some  remedy  to  relieve  Mr.  Hunman, 
inspired  the  Doctor  to  suggest  heated  charcoal  held  in 
the  mouth,  till  finally  the  poor  old  man,  who  had  been 
raving  around  with  a  handkerchief  on  his  head  and  the 
tears  streaming  down  a  puffed  cheek,  declared  that  his 
pain  was  so  much  eased  that  he  could  get  a  little  sleep. 

Then  Lois  began  to  talk  with  Mrs.  Hunman  of  the 
flowers  in  the  old  garden,  about  planting  and  watering 
and  trimming,  and  finally  mentioned  the  thorny  bush 
of  pink  roses  that  grew  beside  the  walk  where  she  and 
the  Doctor  had  stopped  on  their  first  visit  for  some 
flowers,  and  she  had  so  sweetly  offered  to  mend  his 
torn  glove.  Many  a  time  since  then  had  he  paused 
reverently  by  it,  to  recall  its  happy  associations,  or  to 
gather  a  leaf  in  remembrance  of  them.  Now  it  had  all 
changed  to  bitterness. 

He  could  no  longer  endure  to  stay  and  hear  Lois  talk 
so  lightly,  her  eyes  glistening  v/ith  brightness,  while 
his  were  strangely  clouded  v/ith  something  he  could  not 
quite  explain,  and  hardly  dared  to  try.  So  he  sought 
refuge  in  the  garden.  Alas!  this  too  but  recalled  that 
blissful  day  of  spring,  when  all  those  dusty  corners  were 


282  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

filled  with  delicious,  fresh  young  leaves,  when  perfumes 
floated  over  them  in  the  drowsy  breath  of  mignonette 
and  roses,  and  the  breezes  brought  something  of  that 
olden  spell  on  their  cooling  wings,  from  the  far-off 
mysteries  of  the  hills  and  the  drooping  skies,  that  had 
cast  a  tinge  of  rosy  hope  over  all  his  life. 

But  as  he  sat  there  among  the  broad,  dark  leaves 
watching  the  spots  of  sunbeams  light  up  with  quiver 
ing  splendor  the  covering  of  dried  and  scentless  grasses 
underfoot,  and  listening  to  the  faint,  high  hissing  of  a 
bee  somewhere  among  the  apple-boughs,  a  great  peace 
swept  through  his  heart,  and  opened  his  blinded  eyes 
to  a  wisdom  that  brought  him  comfort  and  tran 
quillity.  He  gave  up,  not  without  a  lingering  and 
sorrowful  regret,  all  those  strange,  sweet  dreams  that 
had  made  his  future  promise  the  belated  blossoms  of 
life's  spring;  he  gave  up  many  a  hope  that  had  wrapped 
such  halos  of  transcendent  light  and  beauty  over  all 
the  coming  scenes  of  his  existence,  and  he  accepted  the 
calm,  familiar  way  again,  —  a  way  that  seemed  to  him 
now  very  blank  and  purposeless,  very  destitute  of  life's 
choicest,  sweetest  riches.  Fate  had  lifted  him  up  and 
had  given  him  a  glimpse,  through  the  rifted  clouds  of 
life's  dull  sky,  of  the  radiant  glory  of  Love's  paradise, 
but  she  had  cast  him  down  so  far  below  the  plane  of 
that  fair  land  that  he  could  never  hope  to  walk  again 
upon  its  hallowed  ground.  And  yet  one  consolation 
remained  for  all  his  blighted  hopes,  —  poor  and  meagre 
though  it  might  have  been  to  others, — the  memory 
that  the  object  of  his  love  was  still  left  to  him,  with 
every  charm  she  had  held  for  his  heart,  preserved  in 
all  its  former  beauty.  To  a  younger  man,  unschooled 


THE   FADING   DREAM.  283 

to  disappointments  and  griefs,  this  might  have  been 
only  an  aggravation  to  a  bruised  and  wounded  heart. 
But  the  Doctor  had  not  won  his  silvery  locks  for  naught. 
The  fresh  enthusiasm  of  his  youth  had  not  been  blunted, 
the  glowing  fires  of  his  early  hopes  had  not  been  cooled, 
without  having  left  a  power  as  potent  in  their  stead. 
He  had  known  sorrow,  he  had  borne  defeat,  he  had 
seen  the  best  ideals  of  life  perish,  and  he  could  bear 
his  grief  and  take  the  blessing  left  to  him  with  a  thank 
ful  heart,  knowing  well  how  many  of  life's  joys  change 
only  into  gall  and  bitterness. 

And  there  in  the  old  garden,  on  the  grave  of  his 
buried  happiness,  in  the  face  of  a  future  darkened  into 
midnight,  he  made  a  resolve  to  guard  through  all  the 
vicissitudes  of  her  way  the  gentle  girl  who  had  taught 
his  heart  to  feel  such  love. 

But  the  world's  irreverence  broke  on  his  melancholy 
hour,  loth  to  grant  him  even  the  respite  of  solitude,  for 
Nettie,  catching  a  glimpse  of  him  sitting  under  the  trees 
so  thoughtfully  and  idle,  called  to  him  to  come  and  see 
her  new  pets. 

In  a  dazed  way  he  went  to  her,  and  she,  perceiving 
her  advantage  of  having  caught  him  in  a  reckless 
mood,  ordered  him  to  hold  the  basket  for  her  while  she 
hung  out  the  clothes,  before  she  rewarded  him  with  a 
sight  of  her  pet  puppies,  and  he  complied  as  if  he  knew 
not  what  he  did.  Horace  coming  from  the  stables 
saw  him,  and  rushed  in  to  get  Lois  to  view  the  "great 
sights  "  out  in  the  back  garden.  Little  knowing  what 
his  object  was,  she  went. 

"  Is  n't  that  a  picture  of  prospective  domestic  joy?" 
he  asked,  pointing  through  the  hollyhocks.  Lois  was 


284  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

shocked.  Such  a  position  seemed  inconsistent  with 
the  Doctor's  grave  dignity,  so  utterly  belittling  to  a 
grand  and  noble  character!  Could  she  have  known 
through  what  deeps  of  sorrow  he  was  toiling,  how  en 
tirely  lost  to  the  world's  trivial  deeds  he  was,  her  heart 
would  have  softened  with  inexpressible  tenderness 
toward  him. 

There  was  a  secret  satisfaction  to  Horace  in  the  ex 
pression  of  Lois's  face,  and  he  went  on  with  his  light 
talk,  half  teasing  her  about  the  Doctor,  and  venturing 
upon  dangerous  territory  whenever  he  dared.  Finally 
he  said  something  that  gave  her  a  good  opportunity  to 
show  him  where  he  stood. 

"  Probably,"  he  said,  with  a  tantalizing  laugh,  — 
"probably  the  Doctor  will  get  a  taste  of  your  belliger 
ent  disposition  now.  He  will  then  see  that  it  don't  pay 
to  get  on  the  wrong  side  of  a  school-ma'am,  'specially 
under  the  present  circumstances" 

There  was  something  so  insolent  in  his  tone  that  it 
could  not  fail  to  awaken  indignation,  though  in  reality 
this  was  only  the  fellow's  way  of  being  playful.  Lois 
looked  at  him  steadily  a  moment;  there  was  no  fire  in 
her  mild  blue  eyes,  no  cloud  on  her  fair,  smooth  brow, 
no  vindictiveness  in  her  voice,  when  she  said,  "Prob 
ably  the  Doctor  is  able  to  do  what  you  are  not,  —  able 
to  attend  to  his  own  affairs;  probably,  if  the  Doctor 
knows  as  much  of  my  disposition  as  I  do  of  yours,  he 
is  entirely  satisfied  with  his  abundant  wisdom  without 
wishing  for  opportunities  to  obtain  any  more." 

From  that  moment  Horace  Graham  never  thought  of 
Lois  with  the  old  admiration  again.  But  it  left  him 
on  a  much  better  footing.  lie  respected  her  more 


THE   FADING  DREAM.  285 

when  he  could  not  be  her  equal,  and  was  made  to  real 
ize  it,  and  he  felt  compelled  to  refrain  from  the  jest 
ing  impudence  that  he  thought  his  former  familiarity 
licensed.  So  his  sport  with  Lois  came  to  an  ignomini 
ous  end.  He  lost  his  relish  for  it  somehow,  and  none 
of  his  subsequent  attempts  to  revive  it  gave  the  matter 
any  zest.  However,  he  still  liked  a  joke  over  the  Doc 
tor,  and  enjoyed  it  all  the  more  if  he  could  get  any 
notice  from  Lois. 

When  he  came  in  from  the  garden  after  this  little  in 
cident,  and  found  Lois,  who  had  left  him  there,  sitting 
serenely  with  Mrs.  Hunrnan,  talking  of  baking  powder 
and  yeast,  she  seemed  to  be  as  pleasant  as  ever;  and 
yet  there  was  an  imperceptible  barrier  between  them 
that  he  could  not  surmount.  So  when  she  said  it  was 
time  to  prepare  to  go  home,  and  asked  Horace  to  tell 
the  Doctor,  he  did  not  decline  on  the  ground  that  he 
had  not  the  heart  nor  the  courage  to  disturb  that  "  ro 
mantic  little  scene  among  the  currant-bushes,"  and 
suggest  that  her  abilities  better  fitted  her  to  do  it,  but 
went  straightway  to  perform  the  errand.  When  he 
came  back,  however,  he  had  material  for  a  fling  at  the 
Doctor,  and  could  not  resist  the  desire  to  use  it. 

"  Did  you  find  him?  "  asked  Lois. 

"  Yes.  He  'e  out  in  the  back  garden  engaging  a  few 
pups." 

"Well,  did  you  tell  him?" 

"  Tried  to.  But  I  could  n't  swear  that  he  heard  me, 
he  was  so  busy  trotting  out  the  little  devils  for  inspec 
tion,  and  poking  toads  around  with  a  stick  for  the  relief 
of  the  half-fainting  Nettie." 

"  And  do  you  think  he  will  come  soon?  " 


286  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"  O  yes,  like  enough,  if  he  don't  have  to  go  back  a 
dozen  times  after  he  gets  started,  to  trade  dogs." 

Laugh  as  she  might  at  this  absurd  picture,  it  never 
theless  made  an  impression  on  her  mind.  She  thought 
it  scarcely  becoming  in  the  Doctor  to  humor  and  baby 
such  a  saucy  and  disagreeable  girl  as  Nettie  seemed  to 
be,  at  the  expense  of  his  own  dignity.  He  not  only 
took  no  offence  at  her  impudence,  but  he  excused  it  to 
such  an  extent  that  he  was  willing  to  sacrifice  some  of 
his  good  sense  to  gratify  her  whims.  It  was  something 
she  could  not  understand,  something  that  she  could  not 
respect  in  him,  and  hence  she  could  not  forgive  him. 

To  the  Doctor,  Nettie  was  a  high-tempered,  spoiled 
girl,  whose  natural  infirmities  were  grievously  aggra 
vated  by  her  circumstances.  People  liked  too  well  the 
fun  of  seeing  her  anger  kindled  to  desist  for  her  sake; 
and  so  the  Doctor's  patience  and  consideration  with  her 
had  won  for  him  the  truest  friendship  she  was  capable 
of  giving,  ajid  showed  him  many  innocent  hopes  that 
she  cherished,  many  affectionate  little  touches  to  her 
character,  that  quite  redeemed  her  from  the  unloveliness 
that  seemed  all-pervading  to  others. 

But  Lois  was  still  further  surprised  that  day  by  some 
thing  that  put  a  disquietude  into  her  cheerful  heart, 
and  raised  a  doubt  in  her  conscientious  mind  whether 
her  duty  really  lay  in  the  path  she  was  following,  — 
whether  it  would  not  be  productive  in  the  end  of  evil 
instead  of  good  to  her  fellow-beings.  It  happened  in 
this  wise:  the  Doctor,  who  had  another  visit  to  make  at 
the  hospital,  went  away  before  Lois,  and  she  told  him 
that  she  preferred  to  walk  from.  Mrs.  Hunman's,  and 
then  he  would  not  be  delayed  by  the  extra  time  it 
would  take  to  drive  back  for  her. 


THE   FADING   DREAM.  287 

After  she  had  left  the  house  she  discovered  that  she 
had  forgotten  her  parasol,  and  went  back  to  get  it.  She 
entered  the  garden  at  the  side  gate  where  the  Doctor 
usually  hitched  his  horse,  and  passed  along  the  well- 
beaten  path  that  led  through  an  arbor  to  the  house. 
When  she  reached  the  arbor  she  became  aware  of  a 
commotion  between  Nettie  and  her  Uncle  Byron  on  the 
back  steps.  Loud  sounds  issued  from  Nettie,  tearful, 
angry  exclamations,  and  protestations  against  his  ill 
treatment  of  her  weakness. 

"I  don't  care!  "  Lois  heard,  the  voice  weakened  by 
tears  and  broken  by  sobs;  "  you  'd  feel  bad  too  if  you 
had  to  stand  it  as  I  do.  I  just  hate  her!  I  hate  her! 
She  's  a  mean  — ''* 

"She's  a  mean  thing, —  there!"  came  a  high  voice 
in  imitation  of  the  first. 

"  She  's  just  got  the  Doctor  so  he  don't  like  his  little 
girl  any  more.  She  rides  around  in  his  cart  all  she 
wants  to,  and  he  never  lets  me  have  it  now,  —  boo!  hoo! 
—  to  take  Minnie  Crane  out  riding,  — boo!  hoo!  She  's 
done  it  all,  I  know.  I  can  see  he  likes  her  the  best,  and 
I  can't  have  any  more  rides, — boo!  hoo!  You  get 
away!  I  hate  you  too!  I  don't  like  anybody  in  the 
world  but  grandpa  and  Dr.  Knapp." 

Lois  fled,  forgetful  of  parasol  and  everything  else  in 
her  desire  to  get  out  of  hearing  of  that  voice.  She  was 
so  surprised  and  troubled  that  she  accused  herself  of 
injustice  to  this  poor  little  wayward  girl  she  had  just 
overheard  bewailing  her  unhappiness;  and  then  came 
the  justification  of  her  own  conscience  that  acquitted 
her  on  the  ground  of  ignorance  of  the  true  state  of  things; 
and  lastly,  the  resolve  to  be  no  longer  a  source  of  pain 
to  others. 


288  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

She  did  not  understand  that  Nettie's  lamentings 
came  rather  from  a  childish  jealousy  than  from  any 
thing  deeper.  She  recalled  her  first  visit;  and  Nettie's 
jesting  but  unpleasant  references  to  love-making,  which 
even  then  had  seemed  to  have  something  more  behind 
them,  came  to  her  with  redoubled  meaning. 

In  this  mood  she  met  the  Doctor,  and  he  noticed  it. 
He  attributed  it  to  Mrs.  Hunman's  conversation,  and  of 
course  thought  Lois  mistrusted  him  of  having  had  some 
thing  to  do  with  it.  Yet  he  could  not  mention  the  sub 
ject  without  painful  awkwardness,  so  lie  allowed  the 
matter  to  drop,  with  the  satisfaction  of  feeling  that  his 
own  conscience  was  clear. 

It  was  a  silent  ride  they  took  homeward  that  late 
afternoon.  Oh,  what  a  contrast  to  that  first  delight 
ful  one!  The  Doctor  sat  thoughtfully  looking  out  over 
the  white,  winding  road,  and  urging  Lady  Snowdrop 
into  her  best  trot;  but  Lois  was  even  relieved  by  his 
silence.  He  had  lost  something  of  that  grave,  strong 
dignity  he  had  always  seemed  to  possess,  and  she  could 
not  feel  the  old  dependence  on  him  now.  But  it  was 
well,  for  it  opened  a  road  to  something  better.  She 
learned  in  time  that  though  he  was  dignified  and  grave, 
these  little  acts  which  had  seemed  to  threaten  that  dig 
nity  came  from  a  warm  generosity  that  could  afford  to 
stoop  to  the  smaller  things  of  life  without  losing  its  own 
importance.  She  learned  that  he  was  as  kind  and  un 
selfish  and  charitable  in  the  little  things  of  life  as  he 
was  wise  and  dignified  in  its  greater  things. 

And  the  Doctor,  while  he  had  lost  none  of  that  strong 
affection  he  had  learned  to  feel,  still  knew  that  his  hope 


THE  FADING  DREAM.  289 

was  broken  and  gone  forever.  And  he  Bat  and  looked 
out  over  the  long  stretches  of  yellow  stubble,  and  the 
matted,  satiny  grasses  on  the  low,  golden  slopes,  toward 
the  glittering  spires  of  Locustville  rising  out  of  their 
green  groves  of  trees,  far  off  across  the  prairie-like 
fields,  and  felt  that  nevermore  those  scenes  could  hold 
for  him  their  old-time  charm  and  loveliness. 

Fade  now,  O  ye  flickering,  golden  lights  on  the  tall 
stubble  and  across  the  western  slopes, — fade  with  all 
thy  rich  glories  from  the  soft,  foamy  clouds  and  the 
blue  fields  of  heaven!  —  and  come,  twilight,  with  thy 
awakening  breezes  arid  thy  purple  shades,  to  wrap  the 
glorious  promise  of  the  day  in  thy  sheltering  oblivion, 
—  to  hide  the  dim  landscape  of  the  world  below,  and 
show  the  splendors  of  that  higher  landscape  unrolled 
with  all  its  wonderous  mysteries  above,  fit  emblem,  of 
the  peaceful  twilight  of  our  perishable  hopes! 


290  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

THE   FIRE. 

Fierce  is  the  tyranny  of  fire;  it  springs  from  a  lowly  birth-place 
on  the  ground,  but  rises  to  high  heaven,  and  burns  out  e'en  the  fade 
less  glory  of  the  stars.  —  Selected. 

VAGUELY  as  in  a  dream  Edward  Dennett  remem 
bered  those  terrible  moments  that  succeeded  his  sud 
den  awakening,  —  how  he  had  madly  started  up  with 
the  loud  cry  of  '"Fire!  fire!"  ringing  wildly  and  long 
over  the  sleeping  town;  how  in  his  hasty  flight  past  the 
mill  he  had  stumbled  over  the  prostrate  form  of  the 
unfaithful,  slumbering  watchman;  how  dim  figures  be 
gan  to  appear  moving  about  bewilderingly  rapid  in  the 
streets  below,  lighted  to  a  dim  twilight  by  the  white 
glow  overhead  and  the  dull  red  reflection  from  the 
blazing  forests.  Still  the  wild  alarm  of  "Fire!  fire!" 
reached  far  and  loud  into  the  surroundings  canons, 
and  came  back  above  the  distant  murmur  of  excited 
voices  in  faint,  despairing  echoes,  "  Fire!  fire!  "  Out  of 
a  column  of  sooty  smoke  and  kindling  flame  the  white 
front  of  the  big  hotel  seemed  to  totter  in  the  wind- 
swayed  wreaths  about  it;  one  corner  of  it  was  crowned 
with  curling  spikes  of  fire,  that  licked  along  the  roof 
and  lurked  in  fitful  gleams  around  the  eaves,  lighting 
up  the  windows  just  below  into  momentary  sheets  of 
flashing  brightness. 

He  gained  the  broad  veranda  where  the  carved  pil 
lars  shone  red  in  the  warm  reflection  from  the  burning 


THE    FIRE.  291 

woods,  and  opening  wide  the  heavy  hall  door,  shouted 
up  the  dark  stairways  in  a  voice  that  seemed  to  rend 
the  very  roof  in  its  resounding  vibrations,  "Quick! 
Fire!  fire!  fire!  "  Who  of  all  those  slumberers  realized 
the  meaning  of  these  words,  as  they  awakened  from 
sound  and  restful  sleep,  and  staggering  along  through 
the  densely  dark  passage-ways,  jostled  against  each 
other  in  nameless  terror!  Somewhere  there  was  fire, 
—  from  some  devouring  flame  came  the  stifling  cloud 
of  smoke  that  filled  the  air,  and  some  one's  warning 
voice  was  sounding  loud  and  awful  from  below.  On 
the  broad,  crowded  stairway,  ringing  with  the  voices  of 
that  wild  procession,  a  dark  form  leaped  from  step  to 
step,  and  sprang  past  like  lightning  to  the  landing 
above.  It  was  Edward  Dennett.  And  now  the  secret 
he  had  guarded  so  carefully  against  all  gossiping 
tongues  and  irreverent  curiosity  was  an  open  one. 
And  yet  what  cared  he,  or  even  they  who  heard,  in 
that  terrible  hour?  Who  even  wondered  that  he  called 
"  Mabel!"  in  a  clear,  deep  voice  that  was  full  of  tender 
ness  as  well  as  strength?  —  who  save  one  white-faced 
girl  hastening  down  and  out  into  the  night? 

"  0  fool!  fool!  "  she  whispered  to  herself.  "  It  is  all 
over.  She  will  hear,  and  then  she  will  know  as  I  now 
do!  I  'd  rather  die  than  see  her  happiness  with  him!" 
she  murmured,  with  a  groan  that  was  half  a  hiss,  and 
turning  rushed  with  swift  step  back  into  the  burning 
building.  In  the  deep  darkness  behind  the  stairs  she 
stood,  thinking  madly  of  her  own  defeat,  of  the  bitter 
ness  that  life  held  in  store  for  her,  firm  in  her  resolve 
to  die.  But  when  the  thick  fumes  of  smoke  began  to 
stifle  her,  and  a  dull  red  glow  fell  on  the  white  walls 


292  AROUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 

around,  tremblingly  she  pictured  her  own  frail  form 
clasped  in  the  destroying  grasp  of  the  fire,  and  her 
desperate  resolve  grew  more  and  more  terrible  as  she 
thought  of  it.  "  Oh  no!  no!  I  must  not  wait  here  till 
almost  too  late,  and  then  come  out  maimed  and  scarred 
for  life,"  she  said.  "  Let  her  have  him!  My  lot  can 
not  be  such  a  misery  that  I  should  prefer  this";  and 
gathering  up  her  long  white  robe,  she  hastened  out 
again  into  the  hot  winds  that  fanned  the  roaring 
flames.  "  I  'd  better  even  take  George  Brooklyn,"  she 
whispered  half  aloud,  while  gliding  through  the  ve 
randa,  crowded  with  half  a  dozen  stalwart  men  hurry 
ing  out  with  a  billiard-table.  One  of  them  turned 
roughly  to  see  who  jostled  him,  but  beholding  a  slen 
der  girl,  her  white  gown  tinted  crimson  in  the  glare, 
and  her  long,  shadowy  waves  of  auburn  hair  floating 
out  like  a  cloak  around  her,  he  said  kindly,  u  Stand  in 
that  lattice,  miss,  until  we  get  this  down  the  steps. 
You  will  be  out  of  the  way,  and  will  not  get  hurt 
there." 

Nellie  shrank  back  into  the  latticed  end  of  the 
veranda,  where  the  bright  gleams  of  the  fire  shone 
through  the  clustering  leaves1  and  fell  in  tiny  moons 
upon  the  floor.  She  waited  with  tremulous  fear  while 
the  men  carried  their  heavy  burden  down,  when  a  light 
touch  on  her  shoulder  warned  her  that  she  was  not 
alone.  Turning  she  saw  Nita's  dark  oval  face  illu 
minated  in  the  weird,  checkered  light.  "Are  they  all 
out?"  asked  the  girl  in  a  low,  frightened  voice,  —  "all? 
—  Mabel  and  her  aunt  and  the  tall  young  man,  Ned 
Dennett,  from  the  mill,  —  and  —  and  George,  is  he  out, 
too?  Say,"  she  added  in  a  whisper,  "I  thought  I  heard 
you  speak  his  name  just  now.  Are  you  sure  he  is  out?" 


THE   FIRE.  293 

"I  cannot  tell,"  said  Nellie  petulantly.  "How  do 
/know?"  and  hastening  away,  she  thought  she  heard 
the  low,  pleading  voice  following  her,  but  when  she 
reached  the  foot  of  the  steps  she  found  that  she  was 
all  alone.  "  T  will  be  calm,"  she  thought,  as  she  paused 
a  moment  there.  "  No  one  shall  ever  know  what  I 
must  bear  this  night." 

A  group  of  excited  people  formed  a  semi-circle  out 
in  front  of  the  hotel,  looking  anxiously  up  at  the  smok 
ing  roof,  while  men  were  running  out  with  boxes  and 
trunks,  with  bundles  of  papers  and  articles  of  furniture, 
and  depositing  them  in  the  nearest  place  of  safety. 

The  handsome,  swarthy  Englishman  who  owned  the 
hotel,  hatless  and  in  half-undress,  stood  in  the  rich 
lustre  of  the  light,  with  the  scorching  breath  from  the 
woods  blowing  through  his  dark,  glossy  hair,  and  fan 
ning  his  hot  face  beaded  over  with  great  drops  of  per 
spiration,  while  he  shouted  to  the  men  to  come  away, 
—  the  rest  must  burn. 

Along  the  brilliant  pathway  Nellie  went,  looking 
bewildered  toward  the  assembled  forms  before  her, 
and  vaguely  wondering  if  any  of  her  friends  were  there. 

Yes,  there  was  Mr.  Sevenoakes,  beating  a  hasty 
retreat  toward  the  mill,  and  his  dainty  wife  leaning 
half- fainting  in  the  arms  of  her  friend;  there  was 
George  Brooklyn,  and  Mabel  too,  coming  toward  her 
with  outstretched  arms  and  tearful  eyes.  "  Oh,  Nellie, 
Nellie!"  she  cried,  "thank  heaven  you  are  safe,  and 
Aunt  Cynthia  too!  Here  they  come!  See!  Mr.  Dennett 
is  almost  carrying  her!  Perhaps  she  has  fainted.  We 
could  not  get  her  to  leave  the  room,  for  something 
troubled  her.  But  he  has  made  her  come  at  last." 


294  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"Hush!  Don't  make  a  scene  here!"  said  Nellie, 
calmly  shrugging  her  shoulders  and  tossing  back  her 
hair.  "  You  are  talking  too  loud.  People  will  remem 
ber  all  ridiculous  behavior  after  this  thing  is  over.  For 
myself,  I  think  it  quite  romantic  to  take  part  in  such 
a  scene, — it  will  make  a  fine  subject  for  future  recital 
to  entranced  hearers.  In  five  minutes  my  upset  nerves 
were  steadied,  and  I  am  as  unconcerned  now  as  if  all 
this  was  only  a  play.  The  only  thing  I  object  to  is 
the  costume.  It  is  rather  too  scant  for  comfort. 
Though  (low  be  it  said!)  perhaps  I  should  be  glad  of 
an  opportunity  for  the  novel  experience  of  appearing 
in  it;  the  most  uncomfortable  thing  about  it  being  that 
I  shall  have  to  wear  some  unbecoming,  old-fashioned 
travelling-dress  home,  for  both  my  trunks  are  adding 
to  that  blazing  pile  before  us.  Ah!  you  took  time  to 
don  a  morning  gown,  I  see,  you  piece  of  vanity,  though 
the  last  hour  threatened  to  claim  you." 

"Nellie,  Nellie!"  said  Mabel,  starting  away  uncon 
scious  of  the  words  last  spoken.  "  Come,  let  us  see 
Aunt  Cynthia, — if  we  can  do  anything  to  comfort  her." 
But  Nellie  drew  back,  and  let  Mabel  go  alone  to  the 
place  where,  on  the  warm,  grassy  earth,  out  of  danger 
of  the  fire,  Edward  Dennett  tenderly  laid  his  burden 
down.  In  the  lurid  light  Nellie  stood,  tall,  emotionless, 
like  a  statue,  with  no  sign  to  attest  her  troubled  spirit 
except  her  cold  eyes  flashing  disdainfully  as  she  watched 
Mabel  and  Edward  Dennett  moving  to  and  fro  around 
Mrs.  Willis  in  the  fitful  shadows  that  vanished  when 
some  blazing  bough  shot  up  a  momentary  pinnacle  of 
fire,  and  came  hastening  back  again  when  the  bright 
glare  melted  into  the  steady  glow  from  the  woods.  Not 


THE   FIEE.  295 

even  her  best,  most  exalted  feelings  could  equal  the 
natural  innocence  of  that  gentle  girl  on  whom  she 
looked  so  scornfully.  She  had  no  conception  of  Mabel's 
self-forgetting  goodness,  and  so  she  only  thought  of  her 
rival's  exultant  heart,  and  of  her  own  defeated,  bitter 
hopes.  Not  for  the  world  would  she  turn  her  eyes  away, 
though  what  she  saw  might  kill  her  on  the  spot.  Like 
some  majestic  savage  queen  she  watched  it  all,  im 
movable  in  her  unspeakable  anger,  her  bright  eyes  dark 
with  distended  pupils,  and  her  white  face  transfigured 
into  something  magnificent  in  its  marble  pallor,  if  not 
beautiful  in  its  self-extinguishing  determination. 

It  was  the  supreme  moment  of  her  life, — not  a  mo 
ment  when  by  some  self-sacrificing  act  she  had  achieved 
great  good  and  happiness  to  her  fellow-beings,  but  a 
time  when  all  the  sentiment,  the  affection  of  her  heart, 
perished  at  one  stroke,  and  left  instead  a  raging,  crying 
bitterness,  which  she  was  striving  with  all  her  strength 
and  pride  to  stifle  and  conceal. 

There  is  something  very  sad  in  the  utter  extinguish 
ment  of  the  light  that  kindles  the  higher  feelings  of  the 
heart.  And  what  wonder  that  Nellie,  selfish,  ambitious, 
vain,  in  the  hour  when  all  that  higher  brightness  was 
shut  away,  having  none  of  her  own  to  supply  her  empty 
soul,  should  unconsciously  feel  shame  for  her  poverty, 
and  summon  all  her  pride  to  hide  it.  But  she  suc 
ceeded.  Her  face  expressed  no  suggestion  of  what  she 
felt  when  she  saw  Edward  glance  tenderly  back  at 
Mabel  as  he  prepared  to  go,  though  it  shot  a  poisoned 
dagger  into  her  heart  while  she  looked  upon  the  picture. 

But  she  saw  in  the  next  moment  the  strong,  brave 
man  outlined  against  the  burning  buildings,  like  the 


296  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

figure  of  some  valiant  Spartan  of  old.  She  saw  his  face, 
it  was  young  and  handsome,  and  the  broad,  smooth 
brow,  with  the  damp,  bright  waves  of  hair  above  it, 
giving  courage  by  its  own  serenity;  and  she  saw  him 
raise  his  hands  in  warning  as  he  said,  above  the  din  of 
lamenting  voices,  " Stand  back!  stand  back!  There's 
danger  here!  "  A  silence  fell  as  the  semi-circle  quickly 
widened,  and  then  she  saw  him'  pointing  to  the  broad 
roof  covered  with  a  crown  of  flames,  from  which  black 
fragments  of  roofing  were  caught  up  into  the  spurting 
jets  of  fire  and  smoke,  and  fell  again  like  starry  brands 
from  heaven. 

Scarcely  half  an  hour  had  passed  since  awakening 
from  that  happy  dream,  and  now  Edward  stood  in 
the  heart  of  a  fiery  scene  that  painted  with  its  awful 
devastation  the  hues  of  the  infernal  regions  over  the 
placid,  lovely  face  of  nature. 

The  thick  pine  woods  to  the  north  of  the  hotel  were 
hot  and  darkly  red  in  a  great  threatening  crescent 
around  the  little  town,  while  crackling,  sweaty  boughs 
each  moment  broke  loose  from  some  glowing,  flame- 
wrapped  tree,  and  sent  charry,  fire-gemmed  logs  rolling 
in  clouds  of  smoke  down  the  slopes  into  the  dry  wild 
grasses,  kindling  afresh  the  element  of  destruction. 
Where  on  the  gently  rising  hill  the  Royal  Regina  had 
proudly  overlooked  the  clustering  homes  and  the  mill 
in  the  vale  below,  huge  masses  of  fire  roared  and 
gulped  with  ravenous  fury,  and  great,  bloody,  smoke- 
tipped  forks  of  flame  shot  high  into  the  starry  zenith. 
The  air  was  filled  with  hot,  suffocating  blasts  like  the 
breath  from  a  furnace,  and  the  wild  oats,  growing  high 
in  the  sheltered  nooks  down  by  the  mill,  rustled  and 


THE   FIRE.  297 

crackled  with  each  stifling  wave,  as  if  in  emulous 
admiration  of  the  raging  carnival  of  terror.  Edward 
paused  but  a  moment  in  that  broad  pavilion  of  light. 
The  next  he  was  calling  to  the  dazed  and  wondering 
crowds  to  hasten  toward  the  edge  of  the  woods  and 
fight  to  save  the  town;  and  then  he  started  away  with 
ewift  step  toward  the  mill. 

Most  of  the  men,  awakened  to  their  senses,  hurried 
off  in  the  direction  of  the  burning  rim  of  flame  around 
the  camp,  where  already  scores  of  dark  figures  were 
outlined  against  the  shining  wall  that  leaped  and 
roared  and  drove  them  steadily  back. 

Nellie,  standing  by  George,  in  the  richest  glory  of 
the  flames,  glanced  shyly  up  at  him,  with  eyes  that 
twinkled  through  their  long  lashes,  and  illuminated  a 
face  otherwise  as  firm  and  set  as  marble.  No  one  who 
looked  upon  her  would  know  that  at  that  moment  the 
ruin  and  desolation  about  her  had  no  place  in  her 
thoughts;  nor  could  they  see  the  remotest  'sign  of  the 
tumult  of  bitterness  that  held  sway  in  her  heart. 
With  a  self-control  almost  supernatural  she  stood,  and 
with  piercing  eye  that  struck  terror  to  the  cowardly 
man  beside  her,  she  looked  him  through  and  through, 
and  made  him  feel  as  if  he  would  gladly  have  fallen 
upon  his  knees  and  confessed  his  sins  to  her  if  she 
would  only  release  him  from  that  all-comprehending 
gaze. 

Where  now  were  all  his  fascinating  arts?  The 
ready  smile  that  sometimes  concealed  his  trifling  sneer 
of  self-felt  superiority?  The  earnest  glances  of  his 
fine  dark  eyes,  and  the  tranquillity  of  his  broad,  white 
forehead?  He  remained  motionless,  with  head  half 


298  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

bowed,  powerless  in  that  hour  when  all  his  little  pre 
tences  he  knew  would  fail  of  their  effect,  —  sneaking, 
mean,  helpless. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  Nellie,  what  are  you  looking  at 
me  like  that  for?"  he  broke  out  at  last.  "Isn't  there 
anything  else  for  you  to  do?  " 

"I  was  just  thinking,"  she  answered,  deliberately 
measuring  each  word,  and  still  looking  at  him  through 
her  long,  dark  lashes,  —  "just  wondering  how  it  hap 
pened  that  you  managed  t<^  get  all  dressed  on  such 
short  notice,  —  even  to  your  necktie;  arid  yet  you  did  n't 
stop  to  wash  your  hands.  They  are  very  black  for  a 
gentleman  like  you,  Sir  George." 

"  I  've  been  lighting  the  fire,"  he  answered,  hurriedly, 
and  striving  vainly  in  his  confusion  to  think  of  some 
thing  else  to  say. 

"Then  why  did  n't  you  continue  in  your  good  work?  " 
she  questioned,  without  allowing  him  one  moment's  re 
lief  from  her  merciless  stare. 

"  I  was  looking  for  that  Spanish  girl,  —  Logan's 
daughter,  —  Nita,  you  know.  Have  you  seen  her?" 

"0,  never  mind  her.  She  is  hiding  around  some 
where,  I  presume,  ready  to  spring  on  me  from  some 
covert  place  because  I  'in  talking  to  you.  I  guess  I 
don't  want  to  risk  such  a  fate,  so  you  'd  better  go  back 
to  your  former  occupation,"  she  added,  shrugging  her 
shoulders,  but  without  moving  her  eyes.  "  You  're  a 
tropical  sunbeam,  and  needn't  mind  the  heat.  You 
were  born  for  such.  In  the  next  world  you  '11  be  sure 
to  inhabit  the  equatorial  regions,  where  water  boils  in 
the  shade.  So  go  along  and  help  fight.  Your  garb 
might  excite  some  one  else's  surprise,  my  friend,  and 


THE    FIRE.  299 

then  the  question  would  be  raised  as  to  the  origin  of 
the—" 

'•  I  guess  you  '11  find  I  Jm  not  the  only  one  in  a  sur 
prising  costume  for  a  midnight  fire.  Dennett 's  out  in 
a  well-finished  toilet;  maybe  he  '11  have  to  answer  for 
that,  and  some  other  things  besides";  and  George 
turned  to  go,  but  Nellie  followed  him  a  step  or  so, 
saying  in  a  shrill,  sharp  whisper  close  to  his  ear,  still 
looking  stonily  into  his  downcast  face,  "Well  may  you 
say  that,  you  wretched  fool!  You  need  n't  suppose  I  do 
not  know  that  your  evil-doing,  your  headstrong,  fool 
hardy  wickedness,  has  brought  ruin  to  all  of  us  now.  I 
only  live  for  my  revenge,  and  I  '11  have  it  too;  for  this 
work  of  yours  is  not  wholly  unknown.  Find  the  Span 
ish  girl,  indeed!  I  shall  find  her,  too,  and  get  that  secret 
which  troubles  you  now." 

George,  hastening  down  the  slope  with  Nellie's  words 
burning  in  his  brain,  espied  a  group  of  men  by  the  mill, 
and  among  them  Mr.  Sevenoakes.  More  from  instinct 
than  reason  he  hastened  to  one  whom  he  counted  as  a 
friend  in  his  hour  of  misery,  but  Edward  Dennett,  run 
ning  up  from  the  other  side,  rather  spoiled  the  effect  of 
his  arrival. 

"What's  to  be  done,  Dennett?"  said  the  little  man 
wildly.  In  the  great  crises  of  life  some  trifling  inci 
dent  often  absorbs  all  our  thoughts  for  a  moment,  and 
impresses  itself  upon  our  memories  as  inseparably  asso 
ciated  with  events  of  such  awful  magnitude  we  can 
not  at  first  comprehend  them.  And  so  Edward  could 
not  help  thinking  how  natural  it  was  that  this  little 
Sevenoakes,  so  self-sufficient,  so  fine,  so  imperturbable 
in  his  hours  of  repose,  should  be  utterly  resourceless 


300  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

and  dependent  in  his  time  of  need.  Even  in  that  ex 
citing  moment  his  hurriedly  donned  coat  set  without  a 
wrinkle,  a  silk  handkerchief  relieved  the  bareness  of 
his  neck,  and  the  fitful  glory  of  the  lire  played  on  his 
glossy,  spotless  shirt-bosom.  But  his  face  was  a  study 
of  despair  and  appealing  helplessness.  "  The  mill  will 
go  if  we  don't  do  something  quick  to  keep  that  back," 
he  cried,  pointing  to  the  wind-driven  deluge  of  fire  that 
was  coming  toward  them.  "  Can't  we  get  up  a  little 
force  to  fight  it  out  of  the  grass?  " 

"It  would  do  no  good,"  said  Edward,  hurriedly; 
"  they  could  never  make  any  headway  against  such 
odds.  I  went  across  the  creek  to  look  at  the  old  hose 
we  once  used  to  work  the  placers,  up  the  gulch.  I 
must  have  help  in  fastening  it  to  the  main  water-pipe. 
Get  others  to  bring  the  thing  over.  Some  one  come 
with  me  ";  and  he  ran  up  the  slope,  following  the  course 
of  the  great  iron  pipe  that  brought  water  from  a  spring 
high  up  the  hill  back  of  the  hotel  to  supply  the  mill 
and  the  town  with  water  purer  and  clearer  than  the 
creek  could  furnish.  George  hurried  after  him.  It 
was  but  a  little  way  to  the  outskirts  of  that  grove  near 
the  hotel.  "We  must  begin  here,"  said  Edward,  paus 
ing  a  moment,  and  glancing  around  to  see  whose  foot 
step  sounded  behind  him  through  the  crackling  grass. 
His  face  pictured  his  disappointment  when  he  saw  who 
followed,  but  he  went  on  examining  quickly  the  joints 
of  the  pipe,  and  venturing  as  near  as  he  dared  to  the 
place  where  it  entered  the  burning  wood.  "This  is  the 
only  salvation  for  the  mill,"  he  said  to  George,  dropping 
on  one  knee  and  looking  critically  at  a  place  where  a 


THE   FIRE.  301 

small  stream  of  water  trickled  along  the  ground.  li  The 
wind  irf  so  high  that  while  we  are  fighting  the  regular 
advance  line  of  the  fire  the  sparks  and  rolling  logs  will 
kindle  the  grass  in  a  dozen  different  places  ahead  of  us. 
We  must  stop  the  danger  from  this  source  by  setting 
the  stream  from  the  hose  on  the  nearest  of  these  trees, 
and  getting  the  fire  under  control  in  this  direction. 
Then  the  ground  can  be  flooded  all  over  the  slope, 
which  will  give  us  time  to  turn  a  shower  on  the  roof  of 
the  mill  without  fear  from  the  burning  grass.  We  had 
best  put  the  hose  on  right  here."  He  looked  around 
as  he  spoke,  to  see  if  the  men  were  bringing  it  yet.  In 
the  bright  light  he  saw  their  figures  distinctly  down  by 
the  mill,  so  lifting  the  leaking  pipe,  he  placed  a  piece  of 
loose  timber  which  George  handed  him  under  it  for  a 
support,  and  started  off  to  assist  the  men  dragging  the 
heavy  hose  up  the  hill,  Mr.  Sevenoakes,  daintily  hold 
ing  on  to  the  nozzle  and  shouting  for  greater  haste, 
bringing  up  the  rear. 

George  was  alone  up  there  by  the  water-pipe.  The 
issues  of  deliverance  or  destruction  were  in  his  power. 
For  a  moment  a  blind  dizziness  seized  him,  and  the 
whirling,  sparkling  woods  grew  dim  and  indistinct  to 
his  fading  vision.  Then  through  it  all  rose  up  Nellie's 
white  face  with  its  relentless  stare,  that  seemed  to  pene 
trate  his  inmost  soul,  and  her  last  low  words  to  him 
blended  with  the  hiss  and  roar  of  the  fire.  He  started 
as  if  goaded  to  madness  by  the  remembrance  of  it;  and 
then  with  a  swift  glance  at  the  men  ascending  the  hill 
with  bended  heads,  he  darted  forward,  picking  his  way 
with  care  under  the  kindling  branches,  where  the  pipe 


302  ABOUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

lay.  An  avenue  down  through  the  trees  he  found,  lead 
ing  under  showers  of  sparks  and  dropping  twigs  to  the 
dry  bed  of  the  stream  coming  down  from  the  hilltop, 
across  which  the  pipe  was  stretched.  Just  on  the  other 
side  it  was  lost  in  the  underbrush,  then  converted  into 
one  mass  of  steady,  all-consuming  flame. 

Standing  on  the  bank  just  above  the  place  where  the 
pipe  crossed  the  stream-bed,  George  loosened  a  huge 
round  stone  jutting  out  of  the  bank,  and  turning  his 
face  away  to  avoid  the  scorching  breath  of  the  burning 
bushes,  he  hurled  it  with  all  his  strength  against  the 
pipe.  The  same  instant  a  blast  of  water  struck  him 
full  on  the  side  of  his  face,  blinding  him  with  its  hot 
flood,  and  causing  him  to  fall  headlong  across  the 
steaming  pipe  into  the  blazing  grass  beneath.  With  a 
smothered  outcry  he  regained  his  feet,  while  the  whirl 
ing  scenes  around  him  came  slowly  back  to  his  stunned 
senses.  The  water-pipe  was  sending  up  tall,  crystal 
jets,  on  which  the  light  played  in  fitful  twinkles  as  they 
broke  into  sparkling  sprays,  and  fell  to  the  blazing 
ground  and  over  the  hissing  pipe.  The  trees  that  had 
tottered  and  swum  before  his  eyes  stood  still  and  held 
out  black,  shiny,  charred  arms  against  the  blacker 
background  of  sky,  and  in  the  dry  creek-bed  the  water 
was  forming  little  dark  pools  and  rivulets  between  the 
stained  rocks. 

Dazed,  maddened  with  pain,  he  plunged  through  the 
woods  and  reached  the  clearing,  unseen  by  the  crowd 
of  men  vainly  striving  to  get  a  full  volume  of  water 
out  of  the  broken  pipe.  Where  should  he  go?  What 
would  he  do,  with  his  guilty  face  unsightly  from  those 


THE    FIRE.  303 

torturing  burns?  Passing  down  the  slope,  he  saw  still 
the  same  group  standing  with  wild  faces  upturned  tow 
ard  the  burning  hotel,  the  roof  of  which  shot  up  each 
moment  higher  and  more  awful  banners  of  fire.  If  he 
could  only  see  Knowles,  amid  the  sea  of  faces  that 
swum  and  swayed  before  his  bloodshot  eyes!  In  vain 
he  looked,  but  at  length  he  caught  sight  of  Mabel  and 
her  aunt,  a  little  out  of  the  thickest  crowd.  Rushing 
across  the  brilliant  scene,  he  tried  to  call  to  Mabel,  but 
ere  he  could  make  himself  heard,  a  smothered  chorus 
of  cries  broke  from  the  assembled  throng.  He  stood 
spellbound,  gazing  at  the  awful  picture  before  him.  On 
the  hotel  balcony,  framed  with  a  mass  of  devouring  fire 
which  threatened  every  moment  to  let  its  forked,  smoke- 
tipped  tongues  lick  up  the  frail  morsel  of  humanity, 
stood  Nita,  the  wind  blowing  her  thick  hair  about  her 
shapely  head,  her  arms  outstretched,  and  her  dark  face 
grandly  beautiful  in  its  speechless  agony  of  fear.  Then 
looking  upward  to  the  smoke  clouds  that  floated  over 
head,  she  cried  loud  and  long,  "Help!  help!  In  the 
name  of  heaven,  quick!  I  have  something  to  tell! "  and 
with  one  long  shriek  she  flung  herself  over  the  railing 
to  the  ground.  Some  one  sprang  forward,  and  lifting 
up  the  limp  form  carried  it  away. 

He  saw  the  crowd  draw  near,  with  low  murmurs  of 
pity  and  alarm;  he  saw  Mabel,  her  cheeks  pale  and  her 
hands  trembling,  bending  over  it;  he  heard  some  one 
say  softly,  "  She  still  lives!  We  shall  yet  know  what 
she  has  to  tell." 

"All  is  lost!"  he  whispered,  almost  aloud;  "it  was 
Nellie  who  said  that";  and  then  with  one  despairing 


304  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

look  across  the  hill  to  the  dark  forms  around  the  hose 
in  the  distance,  outlined  by  the  brilliant  glow  beyond 
them,  and  shielding  his  smarting  face  from  the  hot 
breath  of  the  fire  with  his  hand,  he  hastened  along  the 
broad  stage  road  that  led  south  away  from  the  town, 
and  was  gone  from  those  brilliant,  awful  scenes  forever, 
into  the  threefold  blackness  of  the  night. 


AFTER   THE   FIRE.  305 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

AFTER   THE    FIRE. 

Truth  forever  on  the  scaffold, 
Wrong  forever  on  the  throne. 

LOWELL. 

MORNING  was  coming  over  the  distant  heights.  Not 
a  glad,  bright  morning,  bringing  hope  and  life,  but  one 
to  reveal  more  clearly  the  smoking  desolation  of  the 
world.  Far  over  the  outlying  hills  and  on  the  steep 
mountain-sides,  red  fires  paled  in  the  cold,  white  light 
of  dawn,  and  smouldering  smoke  rose  from  the  ruins 
of  the  town  like  the  incense  of  sacrifice  to  the  gray, 
cloud-draped  sky.  Many  a  rancher  on  the  hills  looked 
with  dismay  upon  the  raging  conflagration  that  swept 
through  the  green  forests,  blasting  life  in  thousands  of 
young  trees,  feeding  with  rapacious  rage  on  the  dead 
tree-spears  that  had  defied  innumerable  storms,  and 
spreading  far  and  wide  on  the  rich  pasture  grass  that 
waved  knee-deep  for  his  hungry  herds.  And  when  in 
the  dim,  misty  sky  a  darkness  like  a  frown  gathered, 
and  then  great,  clear,  pure  drops  of  rain  fell  at  inter 
vals  on  the  parched,  burning  earth,  something  like  a 
hallelujah  of  gratitude  from  all  nature  rose  in  the  faint 
rustles  of  dry  pine  mats  on  the  ground,  and  the  soft 
singing  of  the  thirsty  leaves.  Faster  and  faster  fell 
the  gentle  rain,  until  the  dampening  woods  defied  the 
pitiless  red  blaze,  and  the  thousand  ash-circled  flames 
that  glowed  like  council-fires  from  the  hilltops  sent  up 


306  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

little  spurts  of  steam  and  flaky  cinders,  and  died  with 
gushing  hisses  under  the  cool  showers. 

The  first  rain  of  the  season  had  come  with  a  twofold 
blessing.  Not  only  would  those  floods  renew  the  won 
drous  beauties  of  nature,  but  they  would  also  preserve 
her  treasured  glories  which  a  thousand  years  had  nour 
ished.  No  danger  now  that  those  storm-torn  clouds 
would  hurry  away  before  the  impatient  wind,  when 
that  thirsting  earth  below  cried  aloud  for  the  opening 
of  the  flood-gates. 

As  the  dim  light  stole  over  the  devastated  town,  the 
scenes  of  midnight  had  changed  into  something  more 
terrible  in  their  blank  desolation.  No  longer  the  red 
fires  leaped  and  roared,  but  over  the  ruins  of  many  a 
home  little  wreaths  of  smoke  hovered,  and  charred 
trees  stood  up  bare  and  lifeless  against  the  bleak  sky, 
as  if  to  show  what  destruction  a  day  can  bring.  Ah! 
who  could  paint  the  excitement  of  the  dark  forms 
gathered  thick  around  the  mill?  Who  among  them 
could  reason  calmly,  could  plan,  could  hope? 

Here  a  little  group  of  men,  heedless  of  the  lowering 
sky  and  the  unconquerable  flames  that  had  threatened 
all  the  beauteous  foothill  country  around  them,  dis 
cussed  the  incidents  of  the  past  night.  Good  thing 
that  the  mill  and  the  mine  machinery  were  saved. 
Work  would  go  on  now,  anyway,  and  the  prospect  of 
rebuilding  the  town  would  be  better;  strange  how  the 
water-pipe  was  managed.  Smart  fellow,  that  Ned 
Dennett,  to  think  the  heat  must  have  bursted  it; 
and  mighty  plucky  too,  when  he  rushed  after  some 
thing  to  fix  it  with,  and  then  followed  it  right  into  the 
burning  woods  in  search  of  the  break.  Whew!  what  a 


AFTER   THE   FIRE.  307 

power  they  got  on  at  last!  —  not  any  too  early  either. 
It  just  cleared  a  path  round  the  mill,  and  saved  the 
whole  thing. 

Presently  a  new  member  joined  the  group,  and  asked 
T/here  he  could  find  Mr.  Sevenoakes.  No  one  knew. 
Perhaps  he  was  in  the  machinery-room  of  the  mill, 
looking  after  his  wife,  who  was  prostrated  by  the  shock 
of  the  fire.  Had  Logan's  daughter  told  what  she  had 
to  say?  No,  not  that  any  one  had  heard;  she  had  told 
her  mother  to  bring  Edward  Dennett  to  her,  and  they 
were  in  Brooklyn's  little  laboratory  now. 

Then  a  small  party  of  men  came  up,  among  them 
Mr.  Sevenoakes,  and  Knowles,  whose  thin  face  was  fairly 
distorted  by  excitement.  "  There  was  something  mys 
terious  about  the  starting  of  this  fire,"  said  the  smooth 
tongued  little  man.  "  I  'm  quite  assured  of  it.  And 
yet  I  'm  more  than  sorry  to  feel  that  the  trouble  among 
my  workmen  rnay  have  had  something  to  do  with  it. 
The  proof  is  pretty  strong  that  the  fire  grew  out  of  the 
strike.  Who  of  you  men  can  tell  me  anything  about 
it?" 

Two  or  three  of  the  mill  hands  lounged  nearer  the 
speaker,  and  mumbled  something  about  knowing  more 
than  they  cared  to  tell. 

u  If  you  are  in  possession  of  the  slightest  clew,  the 
most  trifling  fact,  I  ask  you  as  gentlemen  to  reveal  it. 
What's  that,  Crane?  Speak  up  and  tell  us  if  you 
know  anything." 

Crane,  in  reality  anxious  for  the  opportunity  to  air 
his  knowledge,  fell  back  a  step  or  two,  and  cowed  some 
what  by  the  dignified  presence  of  the  superintendent, 
who  had  always  seemed  to  him  mighty  as  a  king,  said 


308  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

that  he  had  caught  rumors  floating  around,  from  what 
source  he  knew  not,  that  "  some  one  "  had  boasted  that 
there  would  he  an  end  of  the  strike  in  one  night's  work. 
That  was  about  all  he  knew.  He  had  understood,  how 
ever,  that  the  "some  one"  was  Ned  Dennett,  who  in 
tended  to  commit  some  mischief  to  the  mill  or  works, 
and  have  it  appear  as  if  the  strikers  were  guilty  of  the 
act,  and  thus  bring  about  a  settlement  of  the  troubles 
with  that  prejudice  against  them. 

Mr.  Sevenoakes  glanced  cautiously  around  the  as 
sembled  group,  and  satisfying  himself  that  it  was  safe 
to  speak,  said  calmly  that  Knowles  had  a  little  story 
to  tell,  and  perhaps  it  was  best  that  all  present  should 
listen.  He  alone  felt  himself  incompetent  to  consider 
such  an  enormous  crime. 

"  I  '11  tell  you,  gentlemen,"  began  Knowles,  ner 
vously,  "  the  case  which  I  shall  lay  before  you  is  one 
of  great  importance;  and  did  I  not  feel  bound  to  give 
my  testimony  by  the  calls  of  justice,  my  tongue  would 
never  reveal  what  I  have  to  tell.  It  is  doubly  painful 
to  me,  because  I  fear  that  the  person  who  would  cor 
roborate  my  evidence,  who  was  an  eye-witness  of  the 
act  with  me,  is  now  beyond  my  reach,  —  a  curious 
complication  of  incidents  depriving  me  of  his  support, 
which  I  shall  hereafter  make  clear. 

"I  presume  it  was  well  known  among  you,  gentle 
men,  that  Mr.  Brooklyn  and  myself  were  warm  friends. 
Some  time  ago,  he  confided  to  me  a  little  secret  about  a 
love-affair  he  had  got  into  with  Logan's  daughter,  who, 
as  it  has  since  proved  to  be,  has  been  married  for  over 
a  year  to  a  fellow  who  used  to  be  around  quite  often  in 
these  parts,  —  one  John  Gloucester.  Last  night  George 


AFTER   THE   FIRE.  309 

confided  to  me  the  fact  that  this  Gloucester  had  just 
arrived  from  Arizona,  where  he  had  been  engaged  in 
mining,  trying  to  make  a  strike,  and  that  he  feared 
things  would  be  pretty  hot  for  him,  since  the  new 
comer  was  no  milk-sop.  He  said  that  the  Logan  girl 
had  confessed  these  facts,  of  which  he  had  theretofore 
been  ignorant,  and  that  she  had  promised  to  meet  him 
in  the  woods  up  north  of  here,  somewhere  near  twelve 
o'clock,  —  at  any  rate,  long  enough  after  the  arrival 
of  the  stage  to  have  things  quieted  down,  since  she  was 
afraid  of  her  husband,  — and  they  could  then  arrange 
how  to  manage  their  case.  Brooklyn  asked  me  to  ac 
company  him,  as  he  did  n't  feel  quite  safe  about  going 
out  alone,  for  fear  the  girl,  no  doubt  desiring  to  clear 
herself,  might  betray  him,  and  so  I  consented. 

"  We  started  out  about  midnight,  and  took  the  little 
trail  up  yonder  that  leads  into  the  woods,  moving  along 
carefully,  so  that  other  night-owls  might  not  discover 
us  before  we  did  them.  Before  we  had  gone  far,  how 
ever,  we  ascertained  that  our  precautions  had  not  been 
useless.  We  caught  sight  of  somebody  moving  slowly 
in  the  brush,  and  concealing  ourselves,  we  watched  to 
see  if  we  could  make  out  who  it  might  chance  to  be. 
Then  our  suspicions  were  aroused  by  seeing  the  person 
kneel  down  in  the  grass,  and  strike  a  match  on  an  old 
dead  tree-trunk.  Not  knowing  quite  who  it  was,  or 
what  he  was  trying  to  do,  we  waited  a  moment  to  think 
what  course  it  was  wisest  to  take.  Then  quick  as  light 
ning  we  saw  a  blaze  creeping  along  in  the  grass,  near 
the  tree-stump,  and  with  one  lurch  we  sprang  out  of 
our  concealment.  Our  movement  frightened  the  un 
known  incendiary,  and  starting  up  in  his  haste,  he 


310  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

dropped  his  match-safe,  —  here  it  is,  gentlemen,  with 
his  name  upon  it;  and  a  sudden  burst  of  light  from  the 
tall  hay  blossoms  near  showed  us  unmistakably, — • 
Edward  Dennett." 

A  suppressed  murmur  ran  around  through  the  assem 
bled  crowd,  but  no  one  made  any  comment  whatever, 
—  only  two  or  three  of  the  older  listeners  drew  back  a 
little  and  put  their  hands  to  their  heads.  Knowles 
waited  anxiously  for  the  breathless  silence  to  be  broken 
by  some  expression  of  opinion,  but  finding  no  one  would 
venture  to  speak,  he  continued  with  his  story. 

"  We  all  can  see  his  motive,  —  in  fact,  it  has  just  been 
stated  by  our  friend  Crane  here.  He  wanted  to  scare 
our  worthy  superintendent  "  -  with  an  awkward  bow, 
and  a  spasmodic  gesture  with  his  thin  hand  toward  Mr. 
Sevenoakes  —  u  into  a  settlement  of  the  strike  in  his 
favor.  For  of  course  the  fire  would  be  charged  to  the 
account  of  the  miners,  which  would  irrefutably  prove 
his  theory  of  the  matter.  Besides,  would  it  not  be  pos 
sible  that  a  cool-headed  fellow  like  Dennett  might  bide 
his  time  for  a  little  chance  at  revenge?  Well,  whoever 
sees  it,  or  whoever  don't,  the  fact  remains. 

"  And  one  of  the  strangest  features  of  the  occurrence 
happened  after  the  beginning  of  the  fire.  Brooklyn  and 
I  set  to  work  to  extinguish  it,  fighting  with  all  our 
strength,  and  believing  that  our  efforts  would  be  suc 
cessful  in  a  short  time.  So,  forgetful  of  Nita  and  our 
midnight  errand,  we  decided  with  dismay  that  the  high 
wind  was  making  terrible  headway  with  the  fire,  and 
that  some  one  from  town  must  be  called  to  assist;  but 
before  we  could  make  the  move,  the  Spanish  girl  came 
dashing  along  the  path,  and,  angry  because  we  had 


AFTER   THE   FIRE.  311 

failed  to  meet  her  at  the  place  appointed,  accused  Brook 
lyn  of  being  the  author  of  the  fire.  She  had  him  in  a 
tight  place,  you  see.  She  vowed  she  would  get  her  hus 
band  to  swear  that  he  also  witnessed  the  crime,  which 
would  make  our  evidence  no  better  than  theirs,  —  if 
George  did  not  submit  to  the  arrangements  she  sug 
gested.  He  was  a  high-strung  fellow,  as  you  all  know, 
gentleman,  and  he  refused  to  accede  to  any  such  pro 
posal,  but  obtained  her  promise  to  meet  him  somewhere 
else  latter  on.  I  have  some  proof  that  the  quarrel  was 
renewed  at  the  second  meeting,  and  when,  later,  Nita 
informed  her  husband,  doubtless  poor  Brooklyn  had  a 
stormy  time,  and  was  forced  or  thought  it  most  prudent 
to  leave. 

"  Thus  I  am  left  alone  with  this  story;  and  yet  the 
chain  of  circumstantial  evidence  is  almost  complete, — • 
here  is  the  presence  of  Gloucester,  of  Nita  also,  who 
will  most  likely  confirm  what  I  have  said,  here  is  the 
match-safe,  and  best  of  all,  here  is  Dennett, — we  all  saw 
him  last  night,  —  dressed  when  the  fire  broke  out, 
though  he  ought  to  have  been  safely  in  bed,  coming 
from  the  woods,  the  first  to  give  the  alarm  of  fire;  he 
easily  got  ahead  of  George  and  me,  considering  that  we 
stayed  to  fight  it." 

Knowles  paused  again,  but  still  no  one  spoke,  until 
after  a  painful  period  of  suspense  Mr.  Sevenoakes  broke 
the  silence.  "You  have  heard  this  story,"  he  said. 
"  What  action  shall  we  take  to  verify  positively  its  en 
tire  truth?  Is  it  possible  that  Edward  Dennett  could 
be  the  cause  of  all  this  ruin  around  us?  " 

"Humph!"  growled  a  coarse  miner  from  the  back 
ground;  "  hain't  it  jest  been  proved?  " 


312  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"  Mighty  poor  show  for  him  now,"  added  another. 
"  He 's  done  the  whole  business." 

"  Well,  well,"  continued  Mr.  Sevenoakes,  growing  a 
little  more  excited,  "  then  you  all  give  it  as  your 
unanimous  opinion  that  Edward  Dennett  has  com 
mitted  this  great  wrong  ?  What  shall  we  do  next  ?  " 

Out  of  low  grumbles  and  murmurs  of  "  String  him 
up!"  and  "Poison  him!"  came  some  one's  advice  to 
have  him  arrested,  and  punished  by  law,  since  the 
evidence  was  so  strong;  but  a  firm  voice  from  the  outer 
edge  of  the  crowd  called,  "  Hold! "  and  Logan  was 
pushed  forward  to  have  his  say. 

There  was  a  troubled  look  on  his  honest  face,  but  he 
Btood  calmly  and  manfully  before  the  hissing  group, 
and  defended  his  friend.  "We  don't  say  ye  haven't 
told  it  all  straight,"  he  said  to  Knowles;  "  and  yit  such 
a  mon  as  George  would  do  the  manest  thing  in  the 
woruld,  and  he  might  be  in  it,  too.  Let  us  not  be  harud 
on  the  lad.  We've  seen  him  raised  right  here  among 
us;  we  all  know  the  ould  folks  to  be  good  people;  and 
yez  have  jest  been  after  saying  he  wuz  the  only  wan  as 
could  fix  the  fire  at  all.  We  don't  know  what  he  '11 
have  to  say  when  he  comes  out,  —  he 's  in  there  now 
with  —  with  her";  and  he  pointed  quickly  toward  the 
laboratory,  that  he  might  use  his  hand  to  wipe  away 
something  briny  which  gathered  in  his  eyes.  u  She 
wuz  my  only  girul,"  he  went  on,  pathetically;  "and  yit 
that  mon  Brooklyn  could  stale  her  away,  and  yez  niver 
talk  of  punishing  him.  Who  knows  that  Dennett 
meant  to  start  the  fire?  Come,  now,  boys,  let 's  not  be 
harud  on  the  lad.  Tell  him  to  clear  out,  and  let  that 
settle  it." 


AFTER   THE   FIRE.  313 

Some  of  the  miners  pushed  Logan  back,  and  he 
wandered  off  toward  the  mill,  as  if  anxious  to  be 
within  easy  call  of  those  in  the  laboratory,  and  satisfied 
also  that  he  could  do  no  more  for  Edward.  But  he 
had  done  enough,  for  before  any  one  could  speak,  Mr. 
Sevenoakes  cleared  his  throat,  and  said  he  guessed  that 
Logan  was  about  right.  "  No  one  knows  just  what  he 
meant  to  do,  as  Logan  says,"  continued  he.  "Quite 
likely  we  shall  never  find  out;  for  it  is  more  than 
probable  he  would  deny  having  had  anything  whatever 
to  do  with  the  fire.  Still,  no  one  else  could  possibly 
have  had  any  object  in  the  commission  of  such  an  act, 
since  the  strike  had  already  been  settled  to  the  satis 
faction  of  everybody,  I  fancy,  except  Dennett  himself. 
As  Knowles  says,  the  circumstantial  evidence  is  very 
clear  against  him,  and  we  will  ask  him  to  explain  this 
damaging  evidence  to  our  satisfaction,  or  he  may  find 
this  place  hereafter  of  a  temperature  something  similar 
to  what  it  was  last  night." 

A  loud  laugh  from  the  miners  drowned  Mr.  Seven- 
oakes's  voice  at  this  juncture,  and  when  the  hilarity 
subsided,  the  glib  tongue  was  saying  that  it  was  a  pity 
George  had  been  forced  to  take  such  an  ignominious 
departure.  "  He  was  a  pretty  good  fellow,  as  young 
men  go  these  days,"  added  the  speaker.  "  The  trouble 
with  him  seemed  to  be  that  he  indulged  in  too  many 
flirtations.  They  kept  him  in  hot  water  most  of  the 
time.  I  advised  him,  however,  about  this  last,  but  it 
did  n't  seem  to  have  any  effect  on  him.  I  'in  sorry, 
though,  he  did  n't  prefer  to  stay  and  take  a  thrashing. 
He  would  have  had  plenty  to  help  defray  his  doctoring 
expenses." 


314  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

Another  laugh  signalized  the  acceptance  of  the  super 
intendent's  last  words,  and  low  murmurs  of  affirmance 
from  the  miners,  while  the  little  man,  having  finished 
his  speech,  walked  away  toward  the  mill,  carefully 
brushing  a  stray  cinder  off  his  sleeve. 

The  black  crowd  separated  into  clusters  of  three  and 
four,  eagerly  discussing  the  last  news.  Knowles  was 
the  centre  of  attraction,  and  willingly  rehearsed  his 
story  over  again  several  times  for  the  edification  of  in 
dividual  hearers.  Each  glance  at  the  smoking  ruins 
around  seemed  to  call  forth  louder  denunciations  of 
Edward  Dennett  from  the  excited  throng.  Ah!  who 
could  be  calm  and  reasonable  —  not  to  say  charitable 
—  in  that  desolate  dawn,  after  such  a  sleepless  night 
amid  wild  unearthly  scenes,  when  their  bewildered 
senses  were  scarcely  able  to  grasp  the  magnitude  of 
the  awful  change  that  had  transpired! 

The  light  grew  stronger.  Over  in  the  east  a  rose- 
colored  flush  brightened  the  rim  of  the  distant  snov»T- 
peaks,  and  cast  a  soft  reflection  over  the  cold  grayncss 
of  the  stormy  morning.  Deeper  and  deeper  grew  the 
tint  in  the  horizon,  until  full  daylight  struggled  through 
a  mass  of  gold  and  crimson  clouds  .that  banked  the 
east.  The  rain  that  had  fallen  gently  since  dawn  be 
gan  to  descend  in  welcome  showers,  and  the  waiting 
crowds  that  had  defied  the  scanty  drops  began  to  take 
refuge  in  the  sheds  around  the  mill,  while  the  conversa 
tion  changed  from  the  absorbing  one  of  crime  to  specu 
lations  about  the  storm  and  the  fire. 

Loud  ejaculations  and  incessant  talk  proceeded  from 
under  the  low  roofs,  where  the  men  sat  on  piles  of  lum 
ber  and  worn-out  machinery,  waiting,  —  they  scarcely 


AFTER   THE   FIRE.  315 

knew  for  what.  At  first  they  looked  for  daylight  break 
ing  gray  and  coldly  over  the  distant  hills;  but  now, 
when  its  vailed  brightness  was  abroad  with  promise  of  a 
gleam  of  its  full  brilliancy  through  a  rift  in  the  eastern 
clouds,  they  only  watched  with  strained  eyes  the  labor 
atory  door.  Twice  it  had  opened  softly,  and  a  mysteri 
ous,  sad-faced  figure  had  beckoned  to  some  one  outside; 
and  yet  the  anxious  crowds  knew  only  that  Nita  lay 
pale  and  mangled  in  that  little  room,  that  the  physi 
cian  had  gravely  put  all  questioners  aside  with  a  shake 
of  his  head,  and  that  some  secret  which  the  dying  lips 
•might  reveal  was  all  but  lost. 

Suddenly  the  door  swung  open  wide,  and  subdued 
sounds  from  within  greeted  the  ears  of  the  anxious 
listeners.  Several  forms  were  moving  about,  and 
finally  Edward  Dennett  came  slowly  down  the  steps 
with  a  solemn  face,  followed  by  the  rest.  Out  into  the 
rain  the  crowds  pressed  toward  the  laboratory  door, 'the 
miners  hissing  boisterously  as  they  drew  near,  ready  to 
greet  him  with  their  story  of  the  fire.  But  he  raised 
his  hand  in  warning,  and,  as  if  by  magic,  silence  fell 
over  the  assembled  throng,  for  slowly  and  sadly  they 
that  followed  him  bore  Nita's  frail  form,  sanctified  by 
the  awful  touch  of  death.  The  rain  seemed  almost  to 
cease  falling  on  those  set  features,  as  they  bore  her  out, 
and  at  last  a  ray  of  sunlight,  escaping  through  the  riven 
vapors,  fell  tenderly  on  that  calm  face,  strangely  beau 
tiful  in  its  snowy  pallor,  and  over  the  waiting  groups, 
standing  reverently,  with  heads  uncovered,  while  the 
strange  procession  moved  along.  They  were  taking 
her  home,  —  all  that  was  left  of  her,  —  to  that  home 
which  her  poor,  discontented  spirit  had  never  bright- 


316  AROUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 

ened, —  to  that  rude  woodland  abode  which  yet  seemed 
a  perfect  setting  to  her  wild,  impulsive  beauty.  Were 
there  not  in  those  deep,  mysterious  woods  traces  still 
of  how  her  passionate  heart  had  suffered  and  been 
tempted?  Under  an  old  arbor  did  there  not  lie  a  little 
gleaming  dagger,  wet  and  dimmed  with  the  dripping 
rain  slowly  trickling  through  the  rose  leaves?  In  an 
old,  hollow  stump  was  there  not  a  crumpled  paper, 
torn  and  ragged,  once  folded  and  guarded  so  carefully, 
when  it  seemed  to  her  a  passport  to  the  luxuriant  fairy 
land  her  imagination  painted? 

Ah,  well  for  all  these  things  there  seemed  a  compen 
sation!  For  they  who  stood  around  and  gazed  upon 
the  dumb,  senseless  clay  surely  felt  that  no  soul  was 
there.  Did  they  not  almost  see  it,  —  a  poor,  narrow 
thing,  starved,  misguided,  unable  to  expand  in  this 
lower,  worldly  atmosphere,  hiding  in  the  wing  of  the 
archangel,  to  be  borne  with  trembling  pity  up  through 
the  sun-rifted  cloud,  where  the  base  passions  of  the 
flesh  have  lost  their  charm  and  power,  and  into  the  in 
expressible  raptures  that  abound  in  the  bright,  star- 
hung  steeps  of  heaven? 


SAD   MEMORIES.  317 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 

SAD   MEMORIES. 

Still  the  heartache  comes,  but  the  heartache  goes, 

For  the  heartsease  blooms  in  the  grasses  deep, 
And  the  parsing  year.3  will  hide  our  woes, 

And  lay  them  low  in  a  dreamless  sleep. 
If  thou  hast  a  heart,  that  heart  must  ache; 

Or  if  its  troubled  waves  would  rest, 
No  rosy  light  of  love  must  break; 

Be  it  calm  and  cold  as  a  marble  breast. 
No  heartache  comes  with  a  bitter  pain 
To  the  marble  heart  in  its  icy  chain; 
Never  do  marble  lips  complain. 

Selected. 

THE  poor  Doctor!  What  change  was  this  that  was 
coming  with  such  a  relentless,  hopeless  blight  over  his 
life?  How  many  of  his  friends  would  have  echoed 
such  a  thought,  could  they  have  looked  into  his  rnind 
in  those  days  that  followed  the  fading  of  his  dream! 
How  many  a  heart  that  silently  beat  its  gratitude  to 
him  would  have  warmed  with  an  infinite  longing  to 
relieve  his  loneliness,  if  only  by  a  single  touch  of 
kindness ! 

But  he  still  drove  over  the  dusty  roads  and  across 
the  dry,  golden  pastures,  with  the  same  kindly  face, 
and  the  same  warm,  generous  heart.  No  line  of  sad 
ness  darkened  his  brow;  no  selfish  brooding  over  by 
gone  woes  stayed  his  charitable  hand.  In  this  valley 
of  sorrow  he  walked  alone.  No  one  shared  its  anguish; 


318  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

no  one  mourned  his  dead  with  him.  There  was  just 
a  slight  difference  in  his  manner,  — it  grew  more  hur 
ried  and  nervous,  as  if  he  was  trying  to  drive  out 
thought  by  a  ceaseless  round  of  activity,  —  and  that 
was  the  only  index  which  the  outside  world  could  find 
to  his  aching  heart. 

Lois  went  no  more  to  the  hospital  on  her  mission  of 
mercy  to  the  suffering,  pleading  that  Mrs.  Mills  could 
not  well  spare  her,  though  the  Doctor  guessed,  with  a 
feeling  of  uncontrollable  pain,  that  this  was  not  her 
real  reason.  Lois  could  not  endure  the  thought  of 
going  to  Mrs.  Hunman's  again  to  distress  Nettie,  but 
she  felt  a  delicacy  in  saying  she  objected  to  going 
there,  without  telling  him  why,  which,  of  course,  she 
could  not  do,  and  hence  she  thought  best  not  to  go  at 
all. 

So  the  summer  wore  away,  and  melted  into  autumn, 
with  its  yellow  hazes  lying  in  stagnant  masses  over 
the  broad  fields,  and  weaving  and  tangling,  day  after 
day,  in  a  slow,  weary  flight  through  the  ancient  slopes. 

But  it  happened  that  one  afternoon  when  the  Doctor 
called,  Lois  was  in  the  kitchen,  and  having  a  letter  to 
deliver  to  her,  he  ventured  out  into  those  warm,  mys 
terious  precincts,  and  found  her  making  bread. 

"Find  a  chair,  Doctor,"  she  said;  "I  know  you  are 
afraid  of  me  now,  with  my  hands  in  this  dough." 

He  did  not  obey,  however,  but  went  and  stood  by 
her  while  she  sifted  the  flour,  watching  the  white  flakes 
pile  themselves  up  into  long  pyramids  and  deep  drifts, 
and  the  light  falling  through  them  make  tints  of  gold 
deep  down  in  the  snowy  heaps.  There  was  a  look  of 
weariness  on  her  face,  that  even  the  late  rose  which  she 


SAD   MEMORIES.  319 

had  gathered  for  her  hair  could  not  brighten,  nor  the 
pleasant  smile  with  which  she  greeted  him  hide. 

Of  late,  Lois  herself  might  have  been  a  subject  for 
the  Doctor's  solicitude,  though  she  tried  to  mask  her 
care-worn  face  under  her  brightest  smiles  whenever  he 
was  around.  Her  school  would  begin  in  two  weeks 
more,  yet  she  dreaded  the  first  day  like  the  renuncia 
tion  of  her  sweetest  hopes.  She  could  scarcely  settle 
in  her  mind  the  thought  of  another  year  of  work  within 
those  dingy  gray  walls,  without  a  breath  of  the  pure, 
cool  air  of  the  Sierras.  Yet  it  was  not  homesickness 
that  haunted  her,  nor  yet  altogether  a  want  of  change. 
But  night  after  night  as  she  lay  down  to  sleep,  dreams 
came  to  her  that  brought  back  the  early  scenes  of  her 
love  and  hope,  and  he  to  whom  she  had  given  all  her 
heart  came  in  them  and  thrilled  her  soul  anew  with 
the  strange  raptures  she  had  never  hoped  to  feel  again; 
but  he  always  vanished  with  a  grace  that  was  a  de 
light,  which  then  changed  quickly  to  false  and  leering 
cruelty,  that  left  in  her  heart  pangs  of  insufferable 
pain,  and  desolation.  Clouds  hovered  over  the  world, 
tinged  with  a  leaden  sombreness,  from  which  faces, 
blanched  with  the  seal  of  death,  showed  their  ghastly 
yet  familiar  features;  and  then  black  palls,  falling 
slowly  from  the  far,  dim  folds  of  bluish  clouds,  wrapped 
her  in  a  strange  oblivion,  and  shut  out  all  her  melan 
choly  visions. 

Day  by  day  the  renewal  of  old  scenes  came  back; 
little  melodies  of  song,  freighted  with  tender  associa 
tions,  thronged  to  her  mind,  seeming  to  insist  that 
they  be  sung  again;  and  irresistible  impulses  com 
pelled  her  to  review  each  word  and  thought,  each  token 


320  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

of  remembrance,  that  recalled  those  departed  days.  It 
was  not  the  happy,  bright  Lois  of  old  who  responded 
eo  languidly  to  Jimmie  Mills's  questions,  but  some  one 
else  who  sat  at  the  window  in  the  twilight  with  a  bor 
rowed  shadow  on  her  brow,  and  looked  out  in  moody 
silence.  These  were  not  hours  of  peaceful  reverie,  but 
times  when  her  heart  ached  with  a  wild  tumult  of  o!J 
love  and  pain,  when  the  autumn  breezes,  rustling  in 
the  leaves,  seemed  hurrying  on  to  tell  her  of  a  name 
less  woe,  when  the  gathering  shadows  seemed  creeping 
even  into  her  life.  "  This  is  the  end  of  all  my  love," 
she  thought.  "This  is  the  last  faint  kindling  of  the 
ember  hidden  so  deep  in  its  misty  ashes."  And  the 
voice  of  fate  seemed  to  tell  her,  through  all  those  sad 
hours  of  recollection,  "  This  is  the  end." 

There  was  something  so  bitter  in  this  stirring  of  her 
buried  hopes,  such  a  relentless  agony,  destroying  all 
their  softened,  time-mellowed  tranquillity,  that  she 
knew  that  nevermore  could  she  cherish  the  sweetness 
of  her  sorrow.  She  strove  against  it.  She  tried  to 
keep  the  spark  from  fading  utterly,  dreading  the  sear 
ing  of  her  heart  to  those  sad  and  tender  memories; 
but  she  strove  in  vain.  Other  things,  —  she  scarcely 
knew  what,  —  other  feelings,  were  battling  for  the  su 
premacy.  So  she  gave  up  to  the  inexorable  mandate 
of  fate,  "  This  is  the  end." 

And  so,  on  this  hazy  day  of  autumn,  when  the  Doc 
tor  surprised  her  going  about  her  daily  tasks,  though 
she  felt  still  the  same  dismal  forebodings,  there  was  a 
sudden  relief  in  his  coming  that  she  clung  to,  loth  to 
go  back  to  her  desolate  thoughts. 

He  gave  her  the  letter  he  had  brought.     It  was  from 


SAD  MEMORIES.  321 

Knowles,  who  had  gone  away  from  the  hospital  into 
the  mountain  mines,  and  wrote  to  thank  her  for  all  her 
kindness  during  his  past  illness.  This  brought  back 
vividly  her  visits  to  the  hospital,  and  ehe  felt  that  one 
of  those  long,  pleasant  rides  with  her  good  friend  would 
do  much  to  dispel  her  settled  gloom. 

"  Doctor,"  she  said  at  last,  very  timidly  for  straight 
forward  Lois,  "  does  your  hospital  gtill  receive  vis 
itors?" 

A  mild  hope  sprang  up  in  his  breast,  a  genial  cur 
rent  of  pleasure,  when  he  heard  her  question. 

"Yes,"  he  answered;  "such  a  visitor  as  you  would 
be,  at  any  time." 

"  Well,  then,"  she  said,  looking  up  to  him  with  some 
thing  of  her  old  archness,  "  may  I  go  with  you  again 
some  day?  I  need  the  change  and  the  occupation,  but 
I  shall  have  to  make  a  short  stay.  We  will  not  bo 
able  to  take  dinner  with  Mrs.  Hunman." 

"  Nothing  would  give  me  greater  pleasure  than  to 
arrange  everything  as  you  wish,"  he  answered,  with 
more  truth  than  bashfulness  this  time. 

Then  she  went  on  with  her  bread-making,  scooping 
up  the  soft,  light  flour,  sprinkling  it  in  little  clpuds 
over  the  dough,  and  kneading  the  great  elastio  mass 
about,  all  the  while  talking  to  him  with  a  desperation 
that  seemed  afraid  to  allow  him  a  moment's  reflection, 
for  fear  he  would  go.  So  he  lingered,  not  so  much  to 
listen  to  her  talk  as  to  watch  the  pretty  picture,  and 
feel  something  of  the  old  spell  that  had  once  come 
over  him  there,  saddened  though  it  had  to  be  now  with 
hopelessness.  After  the  Doctor  took  his  departure, 
Lois  plunged  deeper  than  ever  into  her  melancholy 


322  AROUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 

feelings.  The  brightness  that  he  brought  seemed  not 
to  belong  to  her,  and  it  vanished  with  him. 

Next  day,  when  she  had  arranged  to  take  her  drive, 
she  felt  no  better,  though  the  Doctor's  watchful  kind 
ness  gave  her  confidence.  So  she  went  on  talking 
with  him,  keeping  up  the  steady  flow  of  thought,  and 
appearing  quite  cheerful,  though  all  the  landscape  bor 
rowed  a  sodden,  dreary  aspect,  and  the  skies,  hazy  and 
pale  gold  with  the  late  year's  mellow  sunlight,  seemed 
dark,  as  if  clouded  by  a  long  and  terrible  eclipse. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  hospital,  and  Lois  went 
again  through  the  silent  wards,  finding  so  many  new 
faces  and  so  many  things  to  do,  the  nameless  dread 
and  horror  she  had  been  fighting  back  yielded  some 
what  to  her  happier  thoughts. 

Just  as  she  was  preparing  to  go  away,  Mrs.  Kent 
came  to  her  and  said  that  a  young  man  had  been 
brought  there  a  day  or  two  before  by  a  person  who 
said  he  had  been  burned  in  a  mine  explosion.  "  He 
occupies  a  little  room  just  at  the  head  of  the  stairs, 
and  you  had  better  step  in  and  see  him;  please  take 
this  sponge  to  bathe  his  hands,  for  he  has  a  fever,"  she 
added.  Lois  found  the  sufferer  lying  on  a  narrow  cot 
in  the  darkened  room,  with  his  face  entirely  hidden  in 
dampened  cloths.  He  did  not  moan  nor  complain,  nor 
even  speak,  when  she  came  in  and  asked  if  she  might 
do  something  for  him,  but  he  stirred  slightly,  and  made 
a  movement  to  raise  the  cloths  from  his  face.  She 
bent  over  him  and  carefully  laid  them  aside,  turning 
to  get  the  cooling  sponge  with  which  to  bathe  his 
wounds,  as  if  to  put  off  the  sight  of  his  suffering  as 
long  as  possible.  But  when  she  looked  back  again,  she 


SAD   MEMORIES.  S23 

saw  the  face  with  a  distinctness  she  could  never  more 
forget, — that  same  familiar  face  that  had  haunted  her 
restless  pillow  night  after  night;  those  same  dark  eyes 
that  had  once  seemed  to  her  to  beam  with  the  tender- 
est  truth  and  affection,  and  reveal  a  soul  replete  with 
honesty  and  nobleness;  that  same  clustering  hair, 
glossy  and"  damp,  falling  over  a  broad,  white  forehead; 
and  alas!  that  well-remembered  voice  which  she  had 
heard  at  midnight  in  the  sobbing  winds  through  many 
a  weary  watch,  that  had  once  whispered  burning  words 
of  love  to  her,  that  had  seemed  to  cry  out  with  ring 
ing  earnestness  in  a  last  long  farewell  call,  saying  now, 
just  as  he  used  to  say  it,  with  the  old  familiar  accent, 
"Lois!" 

Was  it  a  dream  now  that  his  face,  with  all  its  hideous 
scars  and  burns,  should  whirl  and  writhe  beneath  her 
gaze,  that  his  voice  should  sound  like  a  faint,  far,  hiss 
ing  ring?  Was  it  sleep  when  a  darkness  came  through 
it  all  and  wrapped  her  senses  in  oblivion? 

A  fortunate  thing  it  was  that  Dr.  Knapp,  who  had 
followed  Lois  up  the  corridor,  should  step  in  to  see  that 
the  sufferer's  burns  were  not  too  long  exposed  to  the 
air,  and  should  arrive  just  in  time  to  catch  the  fainting 
girl  in  his  arms. 

"  Ah!  the  sight  of  blisters  was  rather  shocking  to  her 
nerves,"  said  the  Doctor  to  Mrs.  Kent,  who  came  hurry 
ing  into  the  room. 

It  was  only  an  addition  to  the  excitement  when  he 
turned  to  see  George  Brooklyn  sitting  up,  all  the  horror 
of  his  burned  and  suffering  face  shown  to  its  fullest 
extent,  and  heard  him,  with  a  wild,  half-delirious  cry, 
call  "Lois! "  once  again. 


324  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"  There  is  something  strange  here,"  the  Doctor 
thought  as  he  carried  the  unconscious  girl  hurriedly 
out  of  the  room,  leaving  Mrs.  Kent  to  attend  to  her 
patient.  When  Lois  recovered,  and  said  she  would 
prepare  to  go  home,  he  ventured  to  ask,  in  a  rather 
significant  way,  if  there  was  anybody  she  would  like  to 
see,  refraining  from  mentioning  any  one  in  particular. 

"  No,"  said  Lois,  with  such  composure  that  he  almost 
felt  himself  deceived  about  the  cause  of  her  fainting; 
but  still  he  thought  it  wise  to  refer  to  it  as  little  as 
possible. 

On  their  way  home,  however,  Lois  herself  spoke  of  it. 
"I  scarcely  thought  myself  so  weak  as  I  proved  to  be 
this  afternoon,"  she  said.  "  I  'm  so  worn  out  with 
caring  for  Mrs.  Mills  that  a  little  thing  will  quite  upset 
me  now;  and  my  surprise  at  meeting  some  one  whom 
I  supposed  to  be  dead  entirely  overcame  my  strength. 
I  fear  I  should  not  have  decided  to  give  up  my  vaca 
tion,  though  I  could  scarcely  do  otherwise  when  that 
accident  happened  to  Mrs.  Mills.  But  I  think  I  shall 
go  away  now,  to  spend  the  remainder  of  my  vacation, 
even  if  I  cannot  succeed  in  getting  an  extension  of  it." 

When  they  arrived  at  Mrs.  Mills's  gate  she  held  out 
her  hand  to  say  good  by;  but  the  Doctor's  considerate 
thought  suggested  that  he  might  go  into  the  house  to 
tell  of  Lois's  fainting-spell,  and  thus  better  explain  her 
sudden  departure. 

His  stay  was  somewhat  longer  then  usual,  and  twi 
light  had  settled  over  the  town  when  he  went  away. 

Lois  thanked  him  with  a  new  gratitude  in  her  voice 
as  she  bade  him  good  by  in  the  vine-covered  porch, 
and  her  manner  betrayed  so  much  dependence  on  him, 


SAD   MEMORIES.  325 

such  mute,  despairing  helplessness,  that  he  longed  to 
shelter  her  in  his  loving  protection.  But  something 
held  him  back;  and  so  he  left  her  to  struggle  with  her 
grief  alone,  only  looking  around  to  see  her  standing  in 
the  vine-wreathed  door  with  the  cool  tendrils  swaying 
in  knotted  festoons  between  him  and  his  lovely  picture, 
and  the  soft  radiance  of  the  hall-lamp  floating  down 
upon  the  halo  of  silken,  wind-blown  hair  around  her 
head. 


326  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

THE    PARTING. 

Whispering  tongues  can  poison  truth, 

One  kiss,  — so  ends  all  record  of  my  crime! 

It  n  the  seal  upon  the  tomb  of  hope, 

By  which,  like  some  lost,  sorrowing  angel,  sits 

Sad  Memory  evermore. 

Lady  of  Lyons. 

THE  stormy  day  was  almost  over.  To  Mabel  it  had 
been  a  strange  one,  —  so  strange  that  she  could  scarcely 
realize  she  was  not  dreaming  as  she  recalled  its  terrible 
events.  Yesterday  she  had  taken  that  ride  with  George 
out  to  the  water-stained  rock-wall,  and  they  had  come 
back  into  the  little  town  just  as  a  gorgeous  sunset  was 
lighting  up  its  hundred  westward  windows  into  mirrors 
of  flashing  gold.  To-day  no  windows  caught  the  lire  of 
the  dying  sunlight,  for  a  flame  more  potent  had  been 
there  before,  and  all  that  remained  of  that  rude,  flour 
ishing  camp  which  had  so  often  led  her  thoughts  into 
the  fascinating  associations  of  the  southern  mines  was 
a  smouldering  mass  of  charred  and  ash-powdered  ruin. 
They  were  at  Mrs.  Dennett's  awaiting  the  morrow's 
stage,  which  would  take  them  away  toward  their  city 
home.  "  But  it  will  not  be  home  very  long,"  Mrs.  Wil 
lis  had  tearfully  declared,  when  speaking  of  their  return. 
Vainly  Mabel  had  tried  to  comprehend  something  of  her 
aunt's  despair. 

"  We  are  beggars,"  the  old  lady  had  said.     "  Mabel, 


THE   PARTING.  327 

all  that  we  had  for  the  coming  years  was  consumed  in 
the  flames  last  night;  and  now  we  are  left  in  a  world 
that  will  hereafter  look  as  dreary  as  that  camp  across 
the  hill.  What  we  possessed  —  and  goodness  knows  it 
was  a  fortune  small  enough!  —  I  had  converted  into 
diamonds,  and  I  actually  took  them  with  me,  I  was  so 
fearful  for  their  safety,  so  distrustful  of  every  one.  Who 
would  ever  guess  that  I  carried  any  wealth  in  that  little 
iron  box,  which  served  for  a  medicine-chest  as  well?  I 
was  so  sure  that  no  burglar  could  ever  find  them  there, 
that  I  congratulated  myself  I  had  a  hiding-place  secure 
against  those  perils,  and  I  even  imagined  that  nothing 
would  ever  harm  them." 

"  Well,  don't  mind  it  so  much,  Aunt  Cynthia,"  Mabel 
had  said,  to  comfort  her.  "  We  shall  get  along  some 
how,  I  am  sure.  We  've  got  the  house  at  home,  you 
know." 

"  Yes,"  Mrs.  Willis  had  assented  fiercely,  "we  can  go 
there  and  live  till  we  starve  to  death.  It  will  serve 
to  hide  our  skeletons  from  a  too  curious  world,  that  is 
all;  for  skeletons  there  will  surely  be." 

"  Then  let  us  sell  the  house  and  come  to  som»  little 
town  here  among  the  mountains.  It  is  so  beautiful,  so 
full  of  dreamy  quiet  and  inspiration.  I  have  been 
very  happy  here,  aunt;  for  we  are  relieved  of  all  the 
obligations  of  the  old  life,  and  there  has  been,  besides, 
a  peace  and  beauty  in  this  existence  that  nothing  else 
can  borrow.  I  call  this  my  little  sky-domed  fort  among 
the  hills.  Perhaps  I  could  teach,  and  we  could  let  ouc 
lives  pass  happily  and  untroubled  —  " 

"Bah!  don't  talk  of  caging  yourself  in  a  mountain- 
pass  as  if  you  had  no  higher  ambition  than  a  wild  ani- 


328  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

mal,"  Aunt  Cynthia  had  interrupted.  "You  are  just 
beginning  life  with  interests  and  ambitions  that  in  no 
way  agree  with  such  idiotic  sentiment.  Pass  happily, 
indeed!  You  'd  bury  yourself  here,  and  be  an  old  maid, 
I  '11  warrant.  How  would  you  fancy  that,  my  lady?" 

"Perhaps  it  wouldn't  be  so  very  awful,"  Mabel 
had  returned,  smiling;  "and  then,  aunt,  perhaps  I 
should  n't  be  an  old  maid." 

"  Well,  we  shall  not  live  in  these  forsaken  wilds,  rest 
assured.  That  settles  it." 

But  somehow  Mabel  could  not  feel  very  miserable 
about  their  poverty,  though  she  realized  that  their 
position  was  indeed  greatly  changed. 

When  evening  drew  near  she  found  the  old  crimson 
chair  by  the  western  window,  and  sat  looking  out  upon 
the  rain-beaten  world.  All  day  the  clouds  had  hung 
heavy  with  rain,  though  afternoon  had  brought  an 
abatement  of  the  storm,  and  now  when  night  gave 
warning  of  its  coming,  a  narrow  belt  of  clear  sky  shone 
above  the  bank  of  dense  purple  clouds  that  rested  on 
the  horizon.  "  It  is  something  like  my  sky,"  she 
thought.  "  One  little  window  of  light  dispels  so  much 
of  storm  and  gloom."  Truly  the  day  had  been  a  se 
vere  one  for  Mabel.  After  the  fierce  excitement  of  the 
night,  the  morning  had  brought  her  new  anxiety.  A 
temporary  shelter  in  the  mill  had  been  provided  for 
the  ladies  after  the  danger  to  it  from  fire  was  over, 
and  Mabel  had  found  a  secluded  corner  where  she  had 
soothed  her  distracted  aunt  into  a  restful  sleep.  But 
the  old  lady's  repose  had  not  been  long,  for  when  a  few 
minutes  later  Mabel  returned,  Aunt  Willis  had  for 
saken  her  place  of  rest.  Through  and  through  the 


THE    PARTING.  329 

building  Mabel  had  searched  for  her  in  vain.  And  at 
last  venturing  out  in  the  desperation  of  her  alarm,  she 
had  come  upon  a  disconsolate  figure  sitting  in  the  rain 
on  a  gray  rock  by  the  creek  margin,  shedding  bitter 
tears  over  some  unknown  sorrow.  Every  effort  had 
been  unavailing  to  reveal  the  cause  of  this  strange  grief 
until  long  after  their  arrival  at  Mrs.  Dennett's.  Then 
as  if  her  horrible  secret  had  weakened  her  fierce  deter 
mination  not  to  reveal  it,  even  before  a  day  was  past, 
Mrs.  Willis  summoned  the  whole  household  to  her  and 
told  her  story.  "The  excitement  and  the  trouble  of 
last  night  have  preyed  upon  her  mind  to  an  extent  far 
beyond  what  she  is  able  to  endure,"  Mrs.  Dennett  had 
privately  said  to  Mabel.  "  We  must  try  to  calm  her, 
Miss  Willis,  and  lead  her  thoughts  into  another  chan 
nel.  Then  perhaps  she  will  be  able  to  rest  a  while." 
But  the  sympathetic,  motherly  friend  had  no  con 
ception  of  the  difficulties  in  the  way.  Mrs.  Willis  was 
not  a  person  to  be  quieted  or  made  to  rest  at  other 
people's  pleasure  or  bidding,  and  Mabel's  efforts  were 
utterly  unavailing.  The  mortifications,  the  trials  of 
the  day,  had  left  her  nearly  exhausted,  and  as  she 
sank  into  the  soft  old  crimson  chair,  a  great  lull  of 
relief  came  over  her,  like  the  calm  that  succeeds  some 
devastating  hurricane. 

But  amidst  all  her  anxieties  there  had  been  a  ray 
of  comfort,  which  like  the  crystal  streak  of  sky  out  in 
the  west  had  shed  a  soft  glory  to  light  up  all  the  dark, 
cloud-curtained  heavens.  She  took  a  certain  pleasure 
in  recalling  how  Edward  had  entered  the  mill  im 
mediately  after  he  had  come  out  of  the  laboratory  from 
his  visit  to  poor  Nita,  and  after  inquiring  for  the  com- 


330  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

forts  of  all,  had  told  Mrs.  Willis  that  he  should  insist 
on  having  her  accept  an  invitation  for  herself  and 
Mabel  and  Nellie  to  share  the  shelter  of  his  own  home. 
Then  he  had  gone  out,  and  in  an  hour  or  so  returned 
with  a  comfortable  old  farm-carriage  to  drive  them 
across  the  hill  and  through  the  old  town  to  his  mother's 
house.  He  had  shown  a  mild  surprise  when  his  friendly 
invitation  to  Mrs.  Sevenoakes  and  other  ladies,  as  yet 
unprovided  with  shelter,  had  been  declined  with  chill 
ing  politeness.  But  Mabel  did  not  think  it  at  all 
unusual  when  she  recalled  the  stylish  little  Mrs.  Seven- 
oakes's  narrow-minded  vanity,  and  felt  just  a  trifle 
indignant  to  think  that  such  whole-souled  generosity 
should  be  scorned  by  those  even  unworthy  to  receive 
it.  But  how  quickly  that  slight  unpleasantness  had 
passed  away,  as  Edward  enthusiastically  explained 
how  the  pipe  had  been  managed  and  the  mill  saved, 
and  what  a  great  satisfaction  it  was  to  him  to  feel  that 
he  had  been  instrumental  in  keeping  back  the  fire. 
To  the  origin  of  the  conflagration  he  gave  but  little 
thought,  but  expressed  himself  as  deeply  affected  by 
Nita's  sad  death,  and  the  utter  destruction  of  the  town. 
Mabel  loved  to  recall  the  picture  he  made  that  win 
try  morning  as  he  drove  along  over  the  slippery  roads, 
urging  the  horses  to  show  their  best  speed,  that  the 
rain  might  not  overtake  them  in  heavy  showers.  The 
light  wheels  of  the  old  carriage  rolling  easily  through 
the  muddy  ruts,  the  horses  skimming  swiftly  over  the 
ground,  and  the  pleasant  change  from  the  distressing 
scenes  they  had  left  behind,  had  revived  him  wonder 
fully,  and  brought  an  exhilaration  almost  surprising 
after  the  miseries  of  the  past  night. 


THE   PARTING.  331 

Mabel  remembered  how  bright  his  face  had  seemed 
when  he  spoke  to  her  of  the  mill.  She  knew  his  heart 
was  full  of  hope;  he  was  so  ready  with  plans,  so  far- 
seeing,  so  magnanimous,  that  he  could  rise  above  the 
dark  discouragements  around  him,  and  hope  by  pa 
tient  work  arid  unflagging  zeal  to  restore  the  heavy 
losses  that  threatened  now  to  overwhelm  the  camp. 
She  thought  how  generous  his  nature  was  when  he  spoke 
of  forgetting  all  the  wrongs  of  the  past,  and  each  man 
striving  with  honest,  indiscriminating  charity  to  build 
up  a  new  era  of  prosperity.  She  did  not  realize  that 
her  presence  cheered  and  inspired  him  with  all  the 
hope  he  felt.  But  she  knew  that  he  was  not  forgetful 
of  her  when  his  eye  had  rested  for  a  moment  on  her 
face,  and  she  had  caught  a  gleam  of  light  from  it  that 
betokened  all  the  tenderness  that  dwelt  in  his  heart. 

And  BO  the  memory  of  that  glance  had  been  a  com 
fort  to  her  all  day.  She  was  happy,  besides,  for  Ed 
ward's  sake,  knowing  that  his  bravery  and  presence  of 
mind  had  saved  the  mine-works  from  destruction,  for 
which  due  praise  must  be  awarded  to  him. 

All  day  he  had  been  absent  at  Lucky  Streak.  Mrs. 
Dennett  had  anxiously  wondered  what  kept  him; 
Nellie  had  privately  rejoiced,  as  much  as  was  possible 
in  the  soured  state  of  her  feelings,  that  he  was  not 
around;  and  Mabel  had  tried  to  silence  an  occasional 
touch  of  jealous  pain.  It  was  her  last  day  in  the 
mountains,  and  yet  the  excitement  at  the  camp  had 
kept  him  from  her  side.  She  would  not  have  preferred 
to  leave  him  for  the  sake  of  listening  to  idle  gossip. 
And  then  her  womanly  heart  had  straightway  found 
an  excuse  for  his  conduct,  —  one  not  only  sufficient  to 


332  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

cover  the  fault,  but  which  would  make  him  appear 
hetter  for  it. 

Of  course  his  ready  hand  was  rendering  its  aid  to 
the  afflicted.  He  was  generous  enough  to  forget  him 
self  for  the  sake  of  others,  even  though  the  mere  effort 
of  his  assistance  was  not  the  whole  of  his  self-denial. 

But  now  since  evening  was  drawing  near  he  would 
certainly  be  home  soon,  with  news  from  the  town,  news 
about  the  stage,  if  it  would  leave  on  the  morrow,  and 
—  yes,  why  he  had  remained  away  all  day. 

Aunt  Willis  fortunately  had  been  able  to  fall  asleep, 
and  Nellie  had  snarlingly  repelled  all  visitors  to  her 
apartment  the  whole  day,  and  so  the  house  was  secure  in 
its  stillness.  No  sound  broke  upon  the  quietude  of  Ma 
bel's  thoughts  except  the  light  step  of  Mrs.  Dennett,  and 
the  soft  raking  of  the  dying  vines  just  below  her  window. 

She  sat  looking  at  the  jagged  edge  of  the  cloud  float 
ing  against  that  bit  of  blue  sky,  and  watching  its  silvery 
brightness  melt  into  hues  of  gold,  when  a  slight  excite 
ment,  firm  footsteps,  and  a  hum  of  voices  in  the  porch 
announced  a  new  arrival.  Edward  had  come!  She 
bent  further  toward  the  window  to  hide  a  blush  of 
pleasure  in  the  protecting  folds  of  the  curtain.  Soon 
of  course  he  would  come  in  and  speak  to  her,  and  she 
must  conceal  some  of  her  pleasure  by  being  very  much 
interested  in  the  outer  world.  She  would  surely  betray 
enough  of  her  delight  for  a  sufficient  welcome. 

How  interminable  the  time  seemed  while  she  waited! 
The  low  sounds  ceased  altogether  at  last,  but  still  Ed 
ward  did  not  come.  "  He  is  telling  his  mother  the 
events  of  the  day,  I  suppose,"  she  thought,  —  im 
patiently  glancing-  at  the  clock  to  find  that  more  than 


THE   PARTING.  333 

half  an  hour  had  passed  since  first  those  quick,  elastic 
footsteps  had  set  her  heart  a-flutter.  She  resolved  to  he 
more  than  ever  interested  in  the  view  from  her  window, 
and  when  at  last  the  step  sounded  again,  in  the  very 
room  where  she  was  sitting,  but  more  lagging  and  weary 
than  hefore,  she  did  not  look  up,  although  certain  who 
had  entered.  Some  one  sat  down  in  the  chair  near  her, 
and  then  Edward's  voice,  strangely  altered,  said  softly, 
"  Mabel,  won't  you  speak  to  me?  " 

She  turned  quickly.  There  was  Edward  Dennett, 
sure  enough;  and  yet  a  golden  shaft  of  late  sunshine,  at 
that  moment  breaking  through  the  ragged  cloud,  fell  on 
a  face  so  haggard  and  full  of  pain  that  it  seemed  the 
countenance  of  a  ghostly  visitor  who  had  just  passed 
through  the  agonies  of  death. 

Mabel  rose  hurriedly,  and  held  out  her  hand,  while 
her  face  beamed  with  the  tenderest  pity. 

"  What  has  happened?  "  she  asked  anxiously. 

Edward  took  the  offered  hand  and  kept  it,  clasped 
in  his  own.  "  I  will  not  deny  myself  this  pleasure," 
he  said  sadly.  "  No,  even  though  you  should  regret  the 
next  moment  that  you  have  given  it  to  me.  I  must  have 
this  remembrance  of  something  pure  and  noble  and 
true, — yes,  true.  Ah,  Mabel!  what  are  our  friends  to 
us  if  they  are  not  true  friends?  Are  they  not  worse 
than  enemies,  when  they  desert  us  in  our  time  of  need, 
after  having  betrayed  us  into  trusting  them?  " 

Mabel  stood  wonderstruck,  and  yet  alarmed,  by  this 
strange  conduct.  "What  has  occurred  to  make  you 
talk  so,  Edward?  Won't  you  tell  me  if  you  are  in 
trouble?"  she  asked,  forgetting  herself  and  her  sur 
roundings  in  her  anxiety. 


334.  AROUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 

Edward  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  as  if  thereby 
he  might  hide  from  his  view  the  enormity  of  an  obstacle 
that  stood  between  him  and  Mabel.  u  I  cannot  look 
you  in  the  face  and  tell  you  of  what  they  have  accused 
me,"  he  said  excitedly.  "  It  seems  to  stand  between 
us  like  a  great  barrier,  —  a  mountain  of  disgrace  and 
misery, — which  I  can  never  hope  to  remove."  He 
stopped  and  drew  in  his  breath  quickly  as  if  to  fortify 
himself  for  the  trying  ordeal  before  him,  but  Mabel 
waited  in  vain  for  him  to  continue.  Ah!  how  could  he 
proclaim  his  own  disgrace?  How  could  he  know  that 
Mabel  would  believe  his  story  in  the  face  of  the  dam 
aging  evidence  before  him? 

"What  has  changed  you  so,  Edward?"  she  asked 
again.  "What  has  happened?  Nothing  can  stand 
between  my  friendship  and  you.  Has  it  not  been 
tested?  and  did  not  we  promise  never  to  distrust  each 
other  again?" 

"  Yes.  But  you  do  not  know  how  impossible  it  may 
be  to  believe,"  he  said,  rising  hurriedly  and  pacing  up 
and  down  the  room.  "Mabel,  they  say  that  /  have 
destroyed  the  town.  They  accuse  rne  of  getting  my 
revenge  in  that  way.  It  is  all  plain  to  them;  the 
trouble  at  the  mill  was  not  settled  to  my  satisfaction, 
and  I,  feeling  that  defeat  was  certain,  resolved  that 
neither  side  should  win.  But,  Mabel,  it  is  a  falsehood. 
It  is  a  base,  unjust  accusation.  I  care  not  what  their 
proofs  may  be,  it  is  a  lie,  —  a  foul  lie!  "  That  despair 
ing  face  had  altered  now.  Angry  fires  flashed  from 
the  heavy  eyes,  and  the  haggard  look  changed  into 
something  awful  in  his  righteous  wrath.  What  strong, 
healthy,  sound-minded  man  ever  endures  injustice  and 


THE    PARTING.  335 

dishonor,  either  to  himself  or  those  whom  he  loves, 
but  that  a  fierce  spirit  of  indignation  is  aroused,  which 
demands  restitution,  whether  it  be  possible  to  secure  it 
or  not?  It  is  only  for  woman's  gentle  nature  to  bear 
calumny  and  persecution  with  charity  and  meekness, 
waiting  and  trusting  patiently  that  a  divine,  pitying 
providence  will  at  last  relieve  her  bitter  sorrow. 

But  Edward  Dennett  could  not  bear  his  wrongs  in 
silence.  Could  he  allow  his  honor  to  be  assailed,  and 
not  stand  up  manfully  in  its  defence?  Could  he  have 
a  fiendish  crime  laid  to  his  charge?  Could  he  meet 
his  accuser  face  to  face,  helpless  to  prove  the  wretch  a 
black-hearted  villain,  and  take  the  punishment  calmly, 
without  a  protestation  of  his  innocence? 

He  strode  up  and  down  the  room  in  a  wild  frenzy, 
scarcely  hearing  or  seeing  anything  but  the  fatal  words 
and  looks  of  his  accusers,  until  Mabel  touched  his 
arm  lightly  and  looked  up  pleadingly  into  his  face. 
That  soft  touch  had  a  magic  in  it,  for  it  dispelled  the 
strong  man's  anger,  as  the  sunlight  breaks  the  fury  of 
the  storm,  and  brought  the  rainbow  of  penitence  in  a 
moment.  "  Sit  down  and  tell  me  about  it,"  she  said, 
kindly.  "  Let  us  think  it  over  together.  Perhaps 
there  is  a  way  out  of  the  cruel  position  they  have 
placed  you  in.  O  yes;  there  is  surely  some  way. 
Some  one  must  have  seen  you.  Tell  me  the  story 
calmly.  Perhaps  I  can  help  you  clear  up  the  mis 
take." 

"  It  is  no  mistake,  Mabel,"  Edward  said,  allowing 
himself  to  be  led  to  a  chair.  "It  is  a  premeditated 
scheme.  There  can  be  no  way  out  of  it,  for  I  was  cer 
tainly  watched,  and  proof  manufactured  to  implicate 


336  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

me.  Why  it  should  be  done,  who  are  guilty,  and  what 
strange  complications  have  worked  out  this  result,  I 
do  not  know.  I  only  believe  that  Knowles  —  Forgive 
me,  he  is  your  friend;  but  I  still  believe  that  he  has 
done  or  has  helped  to  do  the  deed.  For  he  has  in 
vented  the  most  hideous  falsehood  that  ever  was  told 
to  put  the  crime  on  me." 

Then  Edward  gravely  repeated  the  story  of  his  wrongs. 
If  ever  in  that  painful  recital  of  injustice  the  madness 
of  resentment  seized  him,  a  glance  at  Mabel's  pitying, 
gentle  face  brought  calmer,  better  feelings.  There  is 
always  a  frantic  hopelessness  in  the  realization  of  being 
utterly  forsaken  by  one's  friends. 

Edward  had  come  prepared  to  feel  the  sting  of  that 
last  bitterest  blow  of  fate,  —  Mabel's  doubts.  His 
mother  had  been  overwhelmed  with  sorrow.  In  truth, 
he  felt  that  the  ignominy  fell  heavier  on  her,  trustful 
and  clinging  like  a  vine  to  something  strong  and  able 
to  resist  the  storms  of  life,  than  on  his  own  brave,  de 
fiant  nature.  But  when  he  found  Mabel  ready  with 
just  the  calm  tenderness  which  would  soothe  his  wrath 
into  reason  and  reconciliation,  his  heart  melted  almost 
to  forgiveness.  "  Let  me  tell  you  something,  Mabel," 
he  said,  after  he  had  related  the  story  Knowles  had 
told.  "  If  I  had  been  less  faithful  to  the  trust  imposed 
on  me,  I  would  not  have  remained  up  to  help  the 
watchman  with  his  work;  if,  when  utter  defeat  seemed 
imminent,  I  had  not  thought  of  you,  and  hope  had  not 
risen  strong  to  crowd  down  my  discouragements, — if 
faith  had  not  somehow  whispered  that  the  straight, 
upright  path  of  duty  would  lead  to  success  and  satis 
faction,  and  a  clear  conscience  in  the  end,  —  I  should! 


THE    PARTING.  337 

not  be  here  covered  with  shame  and  dishonor,  for  they 
would  not  have  had  the  opportunity  to  entrap  me.  I 
cannot  tell  you  all  the  mortifying  miseries  of  the  day, 
Mabel.  They  even  sent  some  one  out  behind  us  when 
I  drove  over  here  with  you  this  morning.  Though  they 
were  willing  to  allow  me  my  liberty,  they  did  not  want 
me  to  get  away  before  they  had  tortured  me  to  their 
satisfaction.  There  was  a  trial, — such  as  it  was.  Then 
I  found  out  how  few  were  the  friends  I  had.  Among 
my  workmen,  only  a  few  of  the  shaft-hands  had  a  word 
in  my  favor,  except  poor  Logan,  who  worked  in  the 
mill.  He  came  over  to  town  for  the  express  purpose 
of  staying  by  me,  and  helping  fight  the  battle.  Poor 
fellow!  It  did  little  good  except  to  comfort  me.  They 
even  construed  Nita  Logan's  dying  call  for  me  as  evi 
dence  against  rne,  though  the  poor  girl  could  not  reveal 
her  awful  secret.  Would  to  heaven  that  she  had,  for 
I  am  sure  it  would  be  something  in  my  favor.  Mr. 
Sevenoakes  was  non-committal,  but  I  could  see  his 
sympathies  were  with  Knowles.  After  all  the  evidence 
had  been  collected,  they  asked  me  to  disprove  it.  I 
could  do  nothing  but  state  my  inability,  and  protest 
my  innocence.  Then  I  was  given  my  choice,  to  appear 
no  more  at  Lucky  Streak,  or  be  arrested  and  tried  by  a 
court.  I  chose  the  latter  course.  This  raised  a  breeze. 
I  was  declared  ungrateful,  and  after  some  consultation 
among  the  witnesses,  they  insisted  it  would  be  a  trying 
ordeal  for  them  all  to  go  through.  Small  wonder  that 
the  ordeal  would  be  trying,  when  they  would  thereby 
necessarily  run  the  risk  of  betraying  their  own  guilt! 
Then  they  concluded  to  make  me  go;  and  when  I  re 
fused  to  promise  this,  I  was  told  that  measures  would 
be  taken  to  compel  me. 


338  AHOUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

"Ah,  Mabel!  those  were  terrible  moments!  Forgive 
me  when  I  confess  that  indignation  and  contemptuous 
anger  got  the  better  of  my  reason  for  a  time.  I  hurt 
my  own  cause  by  my  persistent  refusal  to  listen  to 
their  insults.  Though  now,  when  I  am  here  with  you, 
and  look  back  upon  it  as  something  more  bitter  than 
death,  yet  feeling  that  it  is  all  past  forever,  I  regret 
I  did  not  show  more  humility  and  charity,  such  as 
your  kind  sympathy  prompts.  But,  Mabel,  you  do 
not  think  me  guilty  of  that  crime?  If  I  felt  myself 
unworthy  of  your  friendship,  I  should  not  be  here  to 
bid  you  good  by," 

"  My  friend,"  Mabel  said,  trying  to  conceal  how 
dewy  and  bright  her  eyes  had  grown,  "  I  am  sure  you 
are  not.  Tell  me  what  to  do;  let  me  help  you  some 
way,"  she  added  quickly,  fearing  to  express  the  fond 
solicitude  she  felt. 

"Unless  the  disgrace  which  now  covers  me  is  re 
moved,  you  can  never  do  anything  more  for  me.  I 
can  only  keep  the  remembrance  of  your  kindness  at 
this  time.  I  will  not  ask  you  to  accept  a  friend  whose 
name  is  blackened  and  despised.  I  will  not  allow  you 
to  do  it.  But,  Mabel,  my  faith  is  strong  that  some  time 
my  innocence  will  be  established;  that  some  time  I  can 
offer  you  my  hand  with  a  past  untarnished  by  any 
thing,  even  by  the  breath  of  slander.  I  am  powerless 
to  bring  about  that  day  myself.  I  can  only  wait,  and 
hope  that  Providence  will  work  out  my  deliverance. 
And  until  then  I  must  be  an  outcast  from  my  home 
and  friends.  But  I  shall  go  out  conscious  of  having 
lived  an  honest  life,  Mabel.  Whether  that  reward  will 
compensate  me  for  all  the  misery  I  have  suffered  for  it, 


THE    PARTING.  339 

I  cannot  tell.  When  all  else  is  gone,  it  is  at  best  but  a 
poor  inheritance, — the  satisfaction  of  not  doubting 
one's  own  self  when  condemned  by  hundreds  who  have 
known  him  from  his  youth.  And  so  I  realize  that  I 
have  lived  to  little  purpose.  And  yet  I  would  cot  ex 
change  the  feeling  of  satisfaction  that  comes  from 
knowing  that  one  so  true-hearted  and  gentle  as  you 
can  still  believe  in  me,  for  the  adulation  of  all  the 
world.  That  is  my  blessing.  I  shall  go  out,  cherish 
ing  it  as  one  of  the  few  sweet,  unimbittered  memories 
of  the  past."  He  rose,  and  held  out  his  hand  to  Mabel, 
ready  to  say  farewell.  The  sun  had  crossed  the  nar 
row  strip  of  clear  sky,  and  had  withdrawn  behind  the 
purple  clouds  again,  while  the  shadow  fell  on  the 
grave,  sad  face  of  him  who  was  leaving  love,  home, 
friends,  and  life  itself  almost,  behind. 

"Mabel/'  he  said  slowly,  "let  me  thank  you  for 
the  glimpse  of  heaven  you  have  opened  to  my  eyes. 
I  dare  not  try  to  say  more,  even  though  my  farewells  to 
all  the  other  joys  that  are  left  me  require  few  words 
indeed.  Fate  cannot  rob  me  of  the  remembrance  of 
you.  I  may  never  see  you  again,  and  yet  your  influ 
ence —  your  presence  —  will  always  be  with  me,  and 
I  shall  be  better  for  it.  Your  image  will  rise  before 
me  in  long  days  of  exile,  a  solace,  a  guide  to  that  bet 
ter  place  where  we  may  meet  at  last,  without  the  sting 
of  earthly  pain." 

Tears  were  falling  from  Mabel's  eyes,  —  great  inno 
cent  tears  she  could  not  suppress.  How  could  she  let 
him  go  out  into  the  cruel  world  alone?  There  is  usually 
something  very  childlike  in  a  young  girl's  love.  It  is 
quick  to  yield  its  sympathy,  and  yet  though  it  acts  as 


340  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

the  stay  and  comforter  of  the  strong  man  in  his  hours 
of  need,  it  is  helpless  and  weak  without  that  object 
which  it  sometimes  supports  alone. 

"  You  must  not  go  to-night,  Edward,"  she  said,  ap- 
pealingly.  "  To-morrow  morning  you  will  start  with 
renewed  courage  after  your  night's  rest.  And  who 
knows  but  that  some  one  will  be  over  from  town  to  tell 
you  that  you  need  not  go,  —  that  your  innocence  is 
proved." 

"  They  would  more  likely  be  over  to  inflict  a  punish 
ment  on  me  for  not  obeying  their  orders,"  Edward  an 
swered,  looking  lovingly  down  upon  the  slender  form 
beside  him.  "No,  Mabel;  I  must  go  to-night.  I  can 
never  endure  that  bitterness  again.  We  must  part,  — 
with  hope  let  it  be,  instead  of  despair.  Your  love  must 
sustain  me,  Mabel,  in  this  last  hour.  Heaven  knows 
there  is  little  enough  left  to  keep  me  from  utter  desper 
ation  when  I  go  oat  from  your  kind  pity." 

There  is  sometimes  a  supernatural  power  bestowed 
upon  women's  hearts,  when  they,  forgetting  their  own 
needs,  can  yield  comfort  and  courage  to  the  broken 
spirits  of  those  infinitely  stronger  to  bear  the  brunt  of 
life's  battles.  Mabel  found  that  strength,  and  heed 
less  of  her  own  pain,  poured  out  all  the  sweetness,  the 
essence,  of  her  soul,  not  in  lamentings,  but  in  consola 
tion  and  hopeful  counsels. 

And  so  as  the  hour  passed,  Edward  and  Mabel  sat 
together  while  the  wintry  gloaming  gathered,  forgetful 
of  the  trials  and  sorrows  of  their  way;  and  heedless  of 
the  gloom  and  cruelties  of  the  great  wide  world  around 
them,  looked  forward  into  a  future  far  beyond  the 
coarse  discords  and  petty  bickerings  of  this  life,  where 


THE   PARTING.  341 

heaven  unfolds  its  unspeakable  glories,  its  divine  and 
tender  raptures,  and  with  hands  clasped,  saw  through 
the  coming  years  when  that  time  would  be  theirs,  and 
said  together,  "We  can  wait." 

And  sad  as  was  their  parting,  still  in  both  hearts 
there  reigned  supreme  a  calm  comfort,  a  nameless  hope, 
that  made  their  lot  endurable. 

Evening  was  darkening  fast  around  them  when  all 
the  last  sad  duties  and  farewells  were  over,  and  Mabel 
stood  in  the  vine-covered  porch  to  watch  the  proud 
man,  to  whom  she  would  gladly  have  given  all  her  life, 
shake  off  the  bonds  of  hope  and  brave  the  harrowings 
of  fate  in  that  lonely  exile  which  lay  before  him. 

But  Edward,  dependent  as  he  was  upon  that  gentle 
girl,  still  had  strength  to  refuse  the  sacrifice  she  was 
willing  to  make,  and  bear  his  part  alone. 

A  gentle  rain  was  falling  when  he  led  his  horse  to  the 
door,  and  Mabel  stepped  out  into  the  twinkling  drops 
for  one  last  hand-clasp  ere  he  rode  away.  Perhaps  it 
was  the  last  time  they  would  ever  meet  on  earth.  Ah! 
how  could  either  have  endured  that  moment  had  they 
not  looked  beyond  the  gloom  into  that  celestial  coun 
try,  whither  faith  and  hope  would  lead  their  footsteps 
on,  and  bright  waters  of  recompense  and  healing  would 
wash  away  their  griefs ! 

There  was  a  power  which  upheld  that  saddened  man 
as  he  went  away,  and  turning  his  face  from  the  bleak, 
stormy  road  before  him,  strained  his  eyes  for  a  last 
glimpse  of  that  home  that  lay  behind  him,  where  all 
the  treasures  of  his  heart  were  left,  for  a  last  glimpse 
of  that  lonely  form  in  the  doorway,  outlined  dark 
against  the  pale  lights  of  the  early  evening  flashing 


o42  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

with  a  warmth  and  brightness  not  all  their  own 
through  the  storm-sprays  and  the  woods. 

lie  could  not  comprehend  how  he  endured  it;  ho 
only  felt  that  a  thrill  of  strength  come  over  him  when 
from  the  last  hilltop  he  looked  back,  knowing  that  the 
next  step  would  hide  all  love  and  brightness  from  his 
way, — that  as  he  went  on  a  strange  consolation  and 
the  genial  warmth  of  a  new-found  hope  came  over  him, 
which  supplied  his  empty,  sorrowing  heart  with  some 
thing  of  the  inspiration  he  had  left  behind. 

And  Mabel,  though  possessed  of  finer  intuition,  knew 
not  what  that  power  was  which  so  sustained  her.  She 
only  knew  that,  despite  the  quick  beating  of  her  heart 
and  the  dewy  tears  that  gathered  in  her  eyes,  she  could 
still  look  out  upon  the  hilly,  winding  road,  and  watch 
the  lonely  horseman  wend  his  way  along  the  cafion 
and  across  the  shadowy  vales,  till  night  and  rain  mist 
hid  him  from  her  sight. 

The  morning  broke  dark  and  rainy.  Clear,  shallow 
drops  clung  to  the  window-panes,  and  slanting  sheets 
of  rain  descended  in  steady  showers  to  obscure  the 
view  beyond,  misty  itself  with  overhanging  clouds 
and  low,  dim  vapors.  Mrs.  Dennett's  home  was  very 
cheerful  and  pleasant  that  morning.  The  guests  were 
greeted  with  savory  scents  of  coffee  as  soon  as  they  left 
their  chambers,  and  a  bright,  warm  fire  blazed  in  the 
sitting-room,  where  Mrs.  Dennett  waited  to  welcome 
them,  stately  in  a  dark  brown  morning-wrapper,  her 
grayish  golden  hair  waving  back  from  a  face  that  was 
full  of  kindness  and  hospitality,  though  touched  by 
new  lines  of  sadness. 


THE   PARTING.  343 

They  breakfasted  in  the  long,  low  dining-room  with 
its  crimson  carpet,  its  heavy  curtained  windows,  and 
walls  tinted  by  the  rosy,  warm  reflection  from  the 
floor,  which  had  seemed  so  beautiful  and  homelike  to 
Mabel  on  her  first  visit  to  Edward's  home. 

Mrs.  Dennett  clung  to  Mabel  as  a  solace  in  her  afflic 
tion.  She  longed  for  the  comfort  and  the  brightness 
this  sweet  young  girl  could  bring  into  her  twice  deso 
late  home,  and  dreaded  the  hour  when  this  last  ray  of 
sunshine  should  fade  out  of  her  life.  But  she  put  the 
thought  aside.  It  was  not  for  her  now  to  indulge  in 
hopes  like  these;  and  Mabel  also  secretlv  longed  to  re 
main  with  Mrs.  Dennett,  that  she  might  bury  her  own 
sorrow  with  a  less  bitter  heartache  for  the  kindness 
showered  around  her  by  true  motherly  sympathy.  As 
the  morning  brightened  into  full  daylight  the  rain 
ceased,  and  the  dripping  woods  held  up  their  drenched 
and  almost  leafless  branches  to  the  gray  sky  with  a 
new  beauty,  while  the  far-off  hills,  misty  with  the 
storms  about  them,  regained  their  vanished  blueness, 
and  stood  out  behind  the  pearly  fogs  like  lines  of  giant 
soldiers  battling  with  the  beating  rain. 

In  Mrs.  Dennett's  small,  elegant  sitting-room  the 
guests  gathered  after  breakfast,  while  their  sad-faced 
hostess,  hiding  her  own  inexpressible  sorrow,  busied 
herself  in  making  little  preparations  for  their  journey. 
Many  were  Mrs.  Willis's  anxious  glances  from  the  rain- 
spattered  windows  for  signs  of  good  weather  on  their 
prospective  journey,  and  many  the  injunctions  to  the 
girls  not  to  fail  of  being  ready  when  the  time  came 
to  start.  The  conversation  was  chiefly  confined  to 
conjectures  about  the  state  of  the  mud  in  the  roads, 


344  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

the  possibility  of  getting  the  driver  to  wait  at  Robin 
son's  wayside  house  an  extra  half-hour  until  his  pas 
sengers  were  comfortably  warmed,  on  the  part  of  Mrs. 
Willis;  and  thoughtful  directions  and  suggestions  about 
the  journey,  and  careful  solicitude  as  to  the  provision  of 
wraps,  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Dennett.  A  great  rumble 
and  the  splash  of  slippery  feet,  a  jocose  laugh  and  a 
loud  "  Hello,"  announced  the  heavy  stage,  adding  a  bit 
of  welcome  color  to  the  dull  gray  landscape,  with  its 
red  paint  newly  brightened  by  the  washing  rain. 

While  the  others,  rustling  in  their  shiny  rain-cloaks, 
hastened  out. behind  the  driver,  carrying  their  bundles 
and  bags,  Mabel  lingered  for  a  quiet  farewell  to  the  old 
garden  where  Edward  had  played  and  worked  in  his 
boyhood,  where  she  had  seen  him  fire  his  signal-gun 
one  bright  spring  day,  when  its  shrubs  and  vines  were 
bending  with  luxuriant  bloom. 

Frosts  and  storms  had  stripped  it  now,  and  only  frail, 
belated  blossoms,  beaten  and  broken  by  the  storm,  clung 
patiently  to  nodding  stalks,  and  held  up  their  delicate 
colors  to  the  frowning  skies.  A  fine  spray  dewed  the 
rose  leaves  by  the  path,  and  glistened  brilliantly  in  cold, 
clear  drops  like  shattered  diamonds  on  the  thorny, 
naked  twigs  of  the  sighing  trees.  Mabel  glanced  back 
ward  toward  the  pleasant  porch,  where  on  her  first  visit 
to  this  charming  home  she  had  seen  Mrs.  Dennett 
sewing  contentedly  behind  the  fragrant  vines.  She 
remembered  that  first  bright  smile  with  which  Mrs. 
Dennett  had  welcomed  her.  She  remembered  now 
that  the  loving  greeting,  the  dawning  light  in  those 
soft  blue  eyes,  had  never  been  wanting.  There  she 
stood  out  at  the  gate  now,  waiting  for  her  last  guest 


THE   PARTING.  345 

with  an  expression  as  full  of  slumbering  charity  as 
Edward's,  wholly  as  uneffaced  by  the  bitterness  of 
years. 

She  held  out  her  hand  without  a  word,  while  Mabel 
took  it  silently,  and  turned  to  go.  But  something  held 
her  back.  Here  she  too  had  suffered;  this  home  which 
had  been  Edward's  was  dearer  to  her  than  any  other 
spot  on  earth;  that  sweet-faced  lady  beside  her  was  his 
mother.  Could  she  go  and  leave  it  all, — perhaps  for 
ever, — without  one  word  of  parting,  one  sign  of  affec 
tion,  when  her  heart  was  brimming  over?  No;  she 
must  speak;  she  turned  back,  and  placing  both  arms 
around  Mrs.  Dennett's  neck,  kissed  her  fondly  on  the 
cheek.  "  I  could  not  go  without  telling  you  something 
of  the  love  I  feel  for  you,  Mrs.  Dennett,"  she  said,  ear- 
r.estly.  "  Aside  from  all  the  gratitude  I  owe  for  your 
kindness,  there  is  something  else,  —  I  love  you  because 
you  are  — 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  answered  Mrs.  Dennett,  quickly. 
"  lie  has  told  me.  dear.  But  I  could  not  speak  to  you 
on  such  a  subject,  for  I  realize  our  disgraced  position; 
I  could  not  presume,  you  know,  my  child." 

"  Do  not  say  that,"  Mabel  said,  sadly.  "  You  are 
not  disgraced  in  my  eyes.  To  me  Edward  is  even 
more  manly  and  noble  than  at  first;  for  he  has  the 
courage  to  bear  injustice  without  harboring  malice 
toward  those  who  have  inflicted  it.  Oh,  you  do  not 
know  all!  I  cannot  tell  you  now!  "  she  added,  breath 
lessly.  "But  tell  him  for  me  just  this  little  message, 
— that  Providence  is  good;  it  will  guide  us  both  to  the 
place  we  have  hoped  to  reach.  And  when  at  last  he 
reaches  home,  my  love  will  be  waiting  for  him  there." 


346  AROUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 

Mrs.  Dennett  silently  folded  the  young  girl  in  her 
arms  and  kissed  her,  and  then  they  parted. 

Mabel  was  not  conscious  that  the  fires  in  the  black 
eyes  of  the  expressman  beside  the  driver  were  not 
extinguishable  by  rain;  or  that  there  were  many  sly 
allusions  to  rosy  cheeks  and  pretty  girls  who  were  so 
proud  that  a  whole  summer  did  not  suffice  to  make 
their  acquaintance.  She  sat  quietly  looking  on  the 
scenes  around  her,  watching  for  the  last  glimpse  of 
Edward's  rose-embowered  home  among  the  mountains, 
thinking  what  a  new  charm  all  those  wild  hills  had 
assumed  since  she  first  saw  them,  and  feeling  that 
nevermore  would  she  breathe  the  sweet  aroma  of  the 
boundless  pine-lands,  or  catch  a  gleam  of  far-off,  snowy 
summits,  without  a  new  stirring  of  that  suffocating 
pain, — that  sad,  sweet  joy  which  had  taken  possession 
of  her  life. 


MEMORIES   OF   THE    SAN   JOAQUIN.  347 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

MEMORIES   OF    THE    SAN   JOAQUIN. 

As  on  through  marshy  banks  a  silent  river 
Winds  tortuously,  with  moonbeams  all  a-quiver, 
So  crowded  memories  haste,  with  magic  power, 
To  soothe  the  sorrows  of  the  dying  hour. 

Selected. 

LOCUSTVILLE  seemed  hardly  like  itself  after  Lois  was 
gone.  Many  a  friend  missed  her,  regretfully  remember 
ing  how-her  bright  face  and  willing  hands  had  helped 
to  smooth  rough  places  for  them,  though  they  scarcely 
realized  it  at  the  time.  Mrs.  Mills  grew  anxious,  and 
even  forgot  to  gossip  while  telling  of  her  troubles,  and 
how  she  would  certainly  have  to  send  for  Lois  if  she 
did  not  return  when  the  two  weeks  were  up.  And  the 
little  folks  were  almost  inconsolable,  since  they  could 
no  longer  save  their  brightest  pinks  and  their  rosi 
est  apples  to  carry  to  Miss  Warren,  that  they  might 
see  how  happy  it  seemed  to  make  her,  and  thus  show 
their  gratitude  for  her  watchful,  patient  care,  and  her 
loving  sympathy  in  their  little  troubles  which  others 
scarcely  deemed  to  be  worthy  of  the  name.  All  through 
the  warm  vacation  the  little  troops  of  bright,  happy 
children  were  seen  coming  and  going  through  that 
friendly  looking  old  front  gate  at  Mrs.  Mills's  house, 
and  Lois  had  found  their  simple  manifestations  of 
good-will  the  brightest  things  in  her  life,  except  the 
visits  of  the  good,  faithful  Doctor.  He  had  a  power  to 


348  AROUND    THE    GOLDEN    DEEP. 

make  the  most  serious  obstacle  seem  small  in  compari 
son  to  his  protecting  strength.  His  unerring  judgment, 
his  hearty  generosity,  his  kindly  interest,  made  him, 
indeed,  her  most  trusted,  most  respected  friend. 

And  the  Doctor  himself!  No  one  of  all  the  friends 
who  missed  the  school-mistress  found  life  so  burdensome 
without  her  as  did  he  who  loved  her  so  incomparably 
better  than  they  all.  To  others  she  was  helpful  and 
pleasant  and  kind,  —  instrumental  in  giving  them  hap 
piness;  to  him  she  was  the  great  essential,  without 
whom  life  was  dull  and  colorless  and  blank.  On  her 
depended  what  little  joy  and  purpose  the  world  could 
thereafter  yield  to  him,  for  the  years  that  had  brought 
the  silvery  threads  to  his  once  brown  hair  had  brought 
bitternesses  and  disappointments  which  had  robbed  life 
of  those  hearty,  trustful  enjoyments  that  ever  sweeten 
and  build  up  the  hopes  of  youth.  Though  his  dream 
of  love  had  faded,  —  the  dream  that  comes  in  life's 
meridian  gathering  round  it  all  the  scattered  sunbeams 
of  the  wasted  morning  in  one  great  final  effort,  — 
though  the  rich  summer  of  his  life  had  failed  to  keep 
its  promise  like  the  glorious  foreshadowings  of  its 
vanished  spring-time,  still  a  calm,  autumnal  beauty  lay 
before,  a  season  when  all  the  bloom  and  brightness  of 
the  world  had  faded;  and  yet  its  naked  trees,  its  brown 
and  leaf-strewn  hills,  were  softened  and  half  hidden  by 
the  dim,  slow-drifting  haze  that  covered  with  a  restful 
tenderness  all  the  blank  desolation  of  the  hastening 
winter.  The  bloom  and  the  verdure  were  gone,  but  the 
soothing  calm  of  this  Indian-summer  time  would  rob 
the  coming  decay  of  the  sharp  agony  of  despair,  and 
mercifully  hide  with  its  smoky  haze  that  river  of  his 


MEMORIES   OP   THE    SAN   JOAQUIN.  349 

hopes,  once  so  full  and  deep  and  clear,  but  now  dimin 
ished  and  narrow,  though  crystal  and  unsullied  still, 
till  it  only  shone  in  bright,  surprising  sweeps  of  silver 
breaking  through  the  veiling  mists. 

Lois  was  not  his  now  to  care  for  and  to  love;  but 
she  was  his  to  remember  tenderly,  to  watch  over,  if 
not  to  protect.  And  so  the  world  lost  more  than  half 
its  brightness  that  day  when  Mr.  Mills  drove  over  to 
Tenayee  with  Lois  by  his  side.  The  Doctor,  who  went 
over  behind  them  in  his  little  cart,  saw  her  enter  the 
train  with  her  usual  light  step,  as  if  she  was  cheerful 
and  happy  as  ever,  but  when  her  face  appeared  at  the 
window,  it  was  pale  and  sad  and  full  of  regret,  and 
his  heart  was  stricken  with  sympathy  and  a  longing 
to  lighten  her  sorrow.  There  seemed  a  mournfulness 
in  the  farewell  she  waived  to  Mr.  Mills,  a  striving  to 
be  her  old  self,  cheerful  and  bright  with  hope,  that 
touched  him  with  unutterable  pity,  for  her  act  lacked 
the  spirit  she  strove  to  put  into  it,  and  only  seemed  the 
sadder  for  the  effort.  The  Doctor  turned  away  with 
troubled  thoughts.  How  could  he  lighten  the  burden 
that  had  fallen  so  suddenly  and  mysteriously  upon  his 
friend?  That  she  was  unhappy,  that  the  stranger  in 
the  hospital  had  awakened  in  her  painful  memories 
and  regrets,  he  was  certain.  But  what  course  could 
he  take  to  serve  her,  if  ever  so  slightly,  in  this  time  of 
need?  First,  he  thought  if  he  could  only  learn  the 
cause,  he  might  the  better  be  able  to  effect  relief,  if 
the  wound  he  could  not  cure.  There  are  some  troubles 
in  which  silence  is  the  most  welcome  sympathy,  and 
so  the  Doctor  had  felt  restrained  from  inquiring  of 
Lois  this  evil  which  he  so  longed  to  remedy  or  relieve. 


350  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

But  now  that  she  was  gone,  and  nothing  could  give 
her  further  pain  in  what  transpired,  he  resolved  to 
learn  the  secret  from  the  stranger.  It  was  no  prying 
curiosity  that  prompted  this  desire;  but  a  wish  to  be 
a  shield,  or  a  helper,  or  a  sharer  in  her  affliction,  if 
he  could  not  be  more. 

The  man  at  the  hospital  suffered  intensely  at  times, 
not  alone  from  his  burns,  but  from  exposure  and  ex 
haustion,  which  induced  a  fever,  and  made  his  chances 
for  recovery  slight.  The  Doctor  was  anxiously  watchful 
of  his  patient,  feeling,  with  a  strange  sensation  of  com 
fort  in  his  heart,  that  thereby  he  might  be  performing  a 
service  for  Lois,  or  at  least  doing  as  she  would  have  him 
do,  even  to  one  who  had  caused  her  suffering  and  pain. 
But  the  days  wore  on,  and  still  he  found  no  oppor 
tunity  to  inquire  into  the  subject  which  weighed  so 
heavily  on  his  mind,  although  he  often  sat  and  talked 
with  the  sick  man  when  the  latter  wanted  company, 
amusing  him  with  a  cheerful  bit  of  conversation,  or 
listening  to  his  entertaining  stories  of  past  experi 
ences.  George  never  spoke  of  the  origin  of  his  burns, 
or  made  any  reference  to  his  acquaintance  with  Lois, 
though  his  talk  was  free  enough,  as  if  he  did  not  inten 
tionally  conceal  anything;  and  he  swam  so  smoothly 
through  both  deeps  and  shallows  of  his  conversation, 
with  such  a  charming  indifference  to  them,  and  such 
a  graceful  avoidance  of  all  reefs,  that  his  listener  was 
not  aware  there  was  anything  but  the  most  thoughtless 
navigation  through  the  current  of  his  stories. 

But  one  day  when  the  Doctor  was  making  a  visit  to 
George's  room,  he  eat  down  by  the  bedside  for  a  few 
minutes  to  rest  before  leaving  the  hospital,  since  he 


MEMORIES   OF   THE    SAN   JOAQUIN.  351 

'had  finished  his  rounds  through  the  silent  wards  for 
that  day.  George  lay  in  a  dull  stupor,  breathing 
heavily  for  a  time,  and  then  with  a  Jong  sigh  he  roused 
himself,  turning  over  impatiently,  and  showing  his 
white,  disfigured  face,  lighted  with  its  luminous,  dark, 
searching  eyes. 

"I'm  a  pretty  sick  man,  am  I  not,  Doctor?"  he 
Baid,  brightening,  and  displaying  something  of  his 
old  careless  grace. 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  Doctor  kindly;  "you  have  borne 
a  good  deal  of  pain;  but  let  us  trust  you  will  come  out 
as  strong  as  ever." 

He  sighed  and  lay  quiet  for  a  time,  as  if  studying 
the  Doctor's  face.  Then  a  dreamy  look  came  into  his 
eyes,  softening  the  wild,  unsteady  light  that  burned 
there.  He  was  thinking,  lost  in  memories,  perhaps 
touched  with  remorse,  so  the  Doctor  did  not  disturb 
his  thoughts. 

"It 's  wonderful,"  he  broke  out  at  last,  as  if  recklessly 
eager  to  unburden  his  mind,  —  "wonderful  how  the 
world  turns  round.  I  was  just  thinking  how  strange  it 
is  for  me  to  be  back  here  in  Tenayee,  —  dying  in  the  old 
hospital  that  never  had  any  terrors  for  me  when  I  used 
to  look  so  carelessly  on  these  old  brick  walls,  without 
even  a  thought  of  what  was  inside  of  them.  I  lived 
here  once,  but  I  never  expected  to  come  back  again. 
The  old  place  quite  lost  its  charm  for  me  before  I  left. 
By  the  way,  tell  me  something  about  that  Miss  Warren, 
who  came  in  here  one  day  with  you,  and  was  taken  so 
suddenly  ill.  She  has  turned  nun  or  angel,  I  suppose, 
of  late  years.  She  used  to  have  a  sprinkling  of  both 
in  her  character  when  I  knew  her;  but  of  course  they 


352  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

must  have  increased  since  then,  in  view  of  the  circum 
stances." 

The  Doctor  was  thoroughly  roused,  and  relieved  be 
sides,  since  George  had  chosen  to  talk  of  Lois,  and  had 
saved  him  the  unpleasant  task  of  opening  the  subject 
which  was  uppermost  in  his  mind,  and  which  troubled 
him  sorely. 

"  If  you  knew  Miss  Warren  once,  I  should  say  there 
is  not  much  to  tell.  No  description  could  do  her  jus 
tice,  she  is  so  thoroughly  good  and  delightful." 

"  0,  then  she  has  turned  angel,"  said  George.  u  She 
was  n't  quite  all  that  when  I  knew  her,  and  yet  she  was 
a  very  nice  little  girl.  I  thought  a  good  deal  of  her 
once  myself." 

"  Ah!  then  you  can  tell  me  something  about  her. 
The  memory  of  her  must  certainly  be  pleasant,"  said 
the  Doctor,  anxiously. 

u  0  yes,  I  don't  mind  recalling  the  part  Lois  took  in 
the  little  story  of  my  sojourn  here.  She  was  younger 
in  those  days,  —  I  dare  say  much  more  charming  than 
she  is  now.  Girls  bordering  on  old-maidhood  some 
times  grow  a  trifle  sour.  Still,  I  don't  know  how  it  is 
with  Lois.  I  wish  she  cared  something  for  me  now, 
for  then  I  would  have  a  capital  nurse,  at  any  rate;  but 
of  course  it  is  not  to  be  expected,  when  our  little  affair 
came  to  such  an  ignominious  end,  —  no  tragic  parting, 
no  sentimental  promises  of  eternal  friendship  or  re 
membrance,  or  such  nonsense  in  it, — just  a  final,  com 
plete  breaking  off.  She  has  mourned  me  as  dead,  and 
planted  my  imaginary  grave  with  forget-me-nots  all 
these  years,  I  suppose.  But  it  could  n't  be  helped.  It 
was  better  to  let  her  think  that  than  to  tell  her  the 


MEMORIES  OF  THE   SAN  JOAQUIN.  353 

truth  and  have  her  lose  her  high  estimate  of  me.  A 
boyish  prank  would  have  turned  me  into  a  scoundrel 
in  her  eyes,  and  so  I  concluded  that  if  it  was  not  pru 
dent  for  me  to  continue  our  acquaintance  she  had  better 
think  well  of  me  than  ill. 

"  There  is  something  rather  pleasant  in  recalling  our 
first  meeting.  It  was  some  years  ago,  and  not  in  this 
place  either.  Left  an  orphan  early  in  life,  I  went  to 
live  in  my  uncle's  family,  where  I  was  obliged  to  re 
main  and  donate  my  services  gratuitously  for  my 
maintenance  until  twenty-one.  I  received  a  little  in 
struction  in  chemistry  in  my  uncle's  drug-store,  but 
when  I  attained  my  majority  I  left  in  disgust,  feeling 
that  the  world  would  do  more  for  me  than  my  uncle, 
when  I  should  at  last  reach  his  standard  of  usefulness. 
I  drifted  around  for  a  year  or  two,  saving  a  little  to  use 
when  I  should  have  an  opportunity  to  finish  my  educa 
tion  in  chemistry,  until  at  last  I  obtained  a  position  as 
freight  agent  at  a  little  wharf  on  the  San  Joaquin. 

"  It  was  a  lonely  life  I  led  there,  and  a  hard  one 
too.  I  had  a  little  house  on  the  river  margin,  in  which 
I  employed  my  spare  time,  fitting  it  up  comfortably, 
and  storing  it  with  books  for  companions  when  noth 
ing  better  offered.  Twenty  times  a  day  some  little  tug 
would  come  steaming  up  the  river,  towing  a  great  old 
awkward  barge,  a  sloop,  or  a  schooner,  with  their  in 
evitable  signals  for  me  to  be  ready  to  receive  some  keg 
of  molasses,  or  box  of  crackers  or  soap,  and  load  them 
with  my  charge  of  potatoes,  or  salt  beef,  or  tule-rushes. 
They  had  me  up  at  all  hours  of  the  night,  attending  to 
the  infernal  little  batches  of  freight  that  came  in  piece 
meal,  so  that  my  strongest  recollection  now  of  the 


354  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

lonely  river  wharf  is  of  the  night  scene  when  the  signal- 
light  shone  like  a  glowing  white  star  high  up  above  the 
restless,  dark  waters,  and  of  the  lanterns  lighting  up 
up  the  rough  gable-end  of  the  freight-house,  in  the 
door  of  which  my  key  grated  so  aggravating  often,  and 
where  the  columns  of  my  open  entry-book  continually 
lengthened.  Twice  a  week  the  steamers  stopped  to 
exchange  mail  or  passengers,  and  then  I  got  a  glimpse 
of  civilization,  for  the  people  from  the  surrounding 
districts,  for  whom  I  had  to  do  all  this  drudgery,  came 
flocking  around,  often  accompanied  by  their  women 
folks,  anxious  for  their  letters,  expecting  friends,  or 
ready  for  a  journey  themselves;  so  that  I  always 
looked  forward  to  the  steamer-day  with  a  glow  of  satis 
faction.  As  for  company,  I  did  n't  have  any,  except 
the  'Dutch  boys,'  who  lived  in  a  cabin  up  the  river, 
where  they  caught  suckers.  They  sometimes  came 
down  to  enliven  me  with  a  tune  on  their  accordion, 
which  served  to  attract  a  few  loungers  to  the  spot,  and 
then  I  usually  put  in  a  pretty  good  day  or  evening,  with 
cigars,  and  plenty  of  help  when  the  boats  came. 

"  But  one  night  I  was  all  alone,  sitting  rather  dis 
consolately  out  on  the  edge  of  the  wharf,  swinging  my 
legs  over  the  water,  and  looking  absently  up  the  broad 
river  shut  in  by  its  dark,  low  banks  fringed  with 
nodding  tules.  It  was  a  pleasant  sort  of  evening,  I 
remember,  warm  and  balmy,  with  just  a  soft  breeze 
stirring  gently  in  the  rushes,  and  skimming  with  an 
added  freshness  down  the  wide,  level  expanse  of  water. 
The  great  marshy  tule-grown  valley  stretched  out  for 
miles  each  side  of  the  curving  stream,  but  all  was  hid 
den  in  the  darkness,  except  the  pale  lights  here  and 


MEMORIES   OF   THE    SAN   JOAQUIN.  355 

there  on  the  surface  of  the  river,  showing  its  tortuous 
course  between  the  inky  black  shores.  I  was  thinking 
even  in  the  midst  of  my  solitude  that  there  was  a  spice 
fascination  in  that  kind  of  life,  if  only  something 
might  come  along  to  enliven  it  once  in  a  while,  and 
make  it  somewhat  pleasant,  when  the  dull  buzz  and 
quick,  short  puffing  of  the  hopelessly  frequent  tug 
came  across  the  winding  river,  and  in  a  minute  the 
familiar  sight  of  the  dark  floating  object,  with  its  short, 
thick  smoke-stack  scattering  trails  of  fiery  sparks  and 
black  wreaths  of  soot  against  the  sky,  presented  itself. 
It  made  no  end  of  noise,  this  particular  steam  affair, 
so  that  it  was  not  until  its  snorting  and  puffing  hushed 
itself  into  a  low,  steady  hiss  when  it  turned  off  steam 
that  I  heard  voices  singing,  uncommonly  sweet  and 
clear,  behind  it. 

"As  the  tug  drew  up  to  the  wharf,  I  saw  that  it  had 
in  tow,  not  the  usual  barge,  but  a  small  pleasure-craft, 
filled  almost  to  the  capsizing  point  with  pretty  young 
girls  and  attentive  young  men,  and  one  or  two  'elder- 
lies'  to  keep  things  straight.  They  were  on  a  little  ex 
cursion  up  the  river,  undecided  where  they  would  stop 
to  wait  for  the  late  moon-rise  before  going  back.  When 
the  -tug  stopped,  an  idea  seized  some  one  in  the  pleas 
ure-boat,  and  the  proposition  was  made  that  they  part 
company  with  the  tug  and  explore  the  wharf,  without 
going  farther.  You  can  readily  imagine  that  my  con 
sent  was  easily  obtained,  and  I  was  so  agitated  and 
eager  to  receive  the  boat-load  of  beauty  in  proper  style 
that  my  duty  toward  the  tug-boat's  freight  almost 
slipped  my  mind;  at  any  rate,  if  my  idea  of  duty  did 
not  become  slippery,  my  hands  or  the  greasy  soft-soap 


356  AROUND    THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

keg  did,  for  the  thing  escaped  my  hold,  and  with  a 
resounding  boom  and  a  heavy  splash  it  dropped  down 
beside  the  timbers  of  the  wharf,  and  sank  into  the 
rocking,  spumy  waters  below.  There  was  some  explo 
sive  swearing  and  premonitions  of  a  storm  between  the 
tug's  crew  and  myself,  but  I  avoided  trouble  by  pay 
ing  for  the  loss,  and  let  the  tug  go  on  her  way  up  the 
river,  ploughing  inky-black  furrows  tipped  with  edges 
of  foam  in  the  water,  and  showing  her  course  miles 
away  up  the  broad,  winding  stream  by  the  dull  red 
glow  and  the  storm  of  flying  sparks  from  her  smoke 
stack. 

"Ashamed  as  I  was  of  my  exhibition  of  awkward 
ness,  regretful  as  I  was  of  my  loss,  the  thing  almost 
vanished  from  my  mind,  and  I  was  glad  of  its  occur 
rence  before  my  visitors  left  the  wharf.  First  of  the 
girls  who  came  out  of  the  boat  was  a  trim,  bright  little 
lady  in  a  dark  blue  boating-dress,  pretty  and  smiling 
as  a  picture,  helped  tenderly  by  a  very  attentive  ancient 
beau  who  seemed  to  worship  her,  while  I  stood  by  and 
held  the  lantern.  Capital  idea  that  was,  for  I  sized 
them  all  up  as  they  came  along  the  plank.  But  I  was 
smitten  with  the  first  girl.  I  almost  fell  in  love  with 
her  before  she  reached  the  wharf, —  with  her  foot,  per 
haps,  more  properly  speaking.  It  was  small  and  neat 
and  shapely,  with  the  daintiest  little  ankle  imaginable, 
and  she  put  it  out  timidly  at  first,  and  then  drew  back 
before  stepping  from  the  plank,  but  at  last  gaining 
courage,  planted  it  firmly  on  the  wharf,  —  all  of  which 
gave  me  a  first-class  opportunity  to  get  a  look  at  it. 
She  had  a  friend, — this  charming  maiden  with  the 
pretty  foot, — and  the  friend  was  a  sly  girl,  slender  and 


MEMORIES   OF   THE   SAN  JOAQUIN.  357 

willowy  and  red-haired,  with  a  fine  white  face  and  an 
exasperatingly  cool  habit  of  exacting  her  own  way,  — 
and  getting  it  too.  These  two  were  the  life  of  the  party. 
Miss  Nellie  Minton, — by  the  way,  I  met  her  last  spring 
on  a  ferry-boat  in  the  upper  country,  wholly  unchanged, 
and  the  circumstance  recalled  vividly  that  night  of  our 
first  meeting  on  the  river  wharf;  but  as  I  was  going  to 
say,  Miss  Minton  set  herself  up  for  queen  of  the  crowd, 
which  claim  was  readily  recognized  by  Miss  Lois  War 
ren,  the  youthful  school-ma'am  teaching  her  first  school 
at  Locustville,  and  out  with  this  party  of  friends  to  spend 
a  week  or  so  of  her  vacation  at  some  little  town  on  the 
river.  But  the  gentlemanly  side  of  the  company  wor 
shipped  the  maid  of  honor  to  the  queen  more  than  the 
potentate  herself, — and  I  for  once  sided  with  the  mascu 
line  portion  of  the  community  in  their  way  of  thinking. 
It  happened  that  I  had  had  a  previous  slight  acquaint 
ance  with  one  of  the  gentlemen  in  the  boat,  so  introduc 
tions  followed,  and  all  restraint  wore  off  in  the  ensuing 
good  feeling. 

"  Fortunately  the  l  Dutch  boys '  took  it  into  their 
heads  to  come  down  to  the  wharf  that  evening,  and  we 
heard  the  faint  strains  of  their  accordion  falling  sweetly 
on  the  night  air  while  they  were  still  away  off,  follow 
ing  the  narrow,  winding  trail  that  led  through  the  tall, 
damp  tule-rushes.  But  the  spirit  of  the  music  was 
sufficient  to  arouse  every  one,  and  when  the  *  Dutch 
boys'  arrived,  they  were  astonished  to  find  us  whirling 
lightly  up  and  down  the  firm  boards  of  the  wharf  to 
the  time  of  the  quick,  sweet  waltz  they  were  playing. 

"  Perhaps  our  case  would  not  have  been  so  serious  as 
it  afterward  proved  to  be  had  it  not  been  for  something 


358  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

the  merry  little  school-m'am  did.  I  cut  out  all  ad 
mirers,  and  secured  the  second  dance  with  her,  and 
after  it,  while  walking  up  and  down  the  wharf,  —  we 
had  no  seats,  except  a  dozen  sacks  of  potatoes  awaiting 
shipment,  and  these  were  already  occupied  as  such, 
much  to  the  prejudice  of  the  tubers,  —  ehe  expressed 
herself  so  sweetly  sympathetic  for  my  accident  with 
the  soap-barrel  that  I  felt  at  once  I  had  never  seen  be 
fore  such  an  exquisitely  fine,  sensitive  nature  as  hers, 
and  consequently  I  tumbled  straight  as  the  soap-keg, 
—  not  into  the  river,  but  into  love. 

"  I  was  wrought  up  to  the  wildest  pitch.  Excusing 
myself,  I  went  into  my  little  house  and  tore  out  a 
month's  supply  of  delicacies,  made  coffee  and  choco 
late,  spread  the  table,  the  length  of  which  I  helped  out 
wonderfully  with  boards,  and  when  the  moon  was  ris 
ing  up  out  of  the  endless  plain  of  tule-marsh  that 
stretched  out  both  sides  through  the  great  San  Joaquin 
Valley,  I  invited  my  guests  in  for  refreshments.  It 
was  the  crowning  success  of  the  evening.  I  was  the 
jolliest  best  fellow  on  the  river,  they  all  said,  and  I  — 
well  I  was  younger  then,  and  I  enjoyed  it  hugely.  As 
host,  I  could  take  my  pick  of  the  girls,  —  having  none 
myself,  —  and  of  course  I  chose  Lois,  enlisting  the  help 
of  Nellie  Minton  in  my  behalf. 

"  I  sat  beside  Lois  at  table,  the  elderly  admirer  on 
one  side  mildly  submitting  to  my  appropriation  of  his 
pretty  girl  as  a  matter  of  course;  for  most  assuredly 
an  old  fellow,  prosy  and  slow  arid  dry,  could  n't  stand 
alongside  of  me  in  such  a  conquest,  when  the  fire  of  my 
young  blood  was  up  and  I  was  bent  on  victory.  It  was 
not  to  be  thought  of,  because  of  course  Lois  was  predis- 


MEMORIES   OF   THE    SAN   JOAQUIN.  359 

posed  in  favor  of  young  fellows.  An  old  man  would  n't 
do  for  her,  even  if  she  was  a  smart  little  school-ma'am 
with  plenty  of  practical  ideas." 

The  Doctor  mentally  flinched.  George's  words  struck 
him  like  a  blow,  though  to  be  sure  he  had  come  to  a 
similar  conclusion  himself.  He  turned  very  red,  and 
nervously  drew  out  his  yellow  gloves,  —  those  dear  old 
half-soiled  gloves,  with  Lois's  own  neat  little  stitches 
in  the  fingers.  The  sight  of  them  soothed  him  won 
derfully  after  this  fresh  wound  his  sore  heart  had 
received,  and  unconsciously  he  clasped  them  with  a 
loving  pressure  to  his  great  manly  breast  while  George 
continued  with  his  story. 

"  When  I  begged  that  she  would  do  the  honors  of 
the  feast  by  pouring  out  the  coffee  and  dishing  up  the 
preserves,  she  complied  with  a  readiness  the  sweetest 
possible,  and  added  the  one  wanting  touch  to  make  our 
night  revel  as  refined  and  romantic  as  it  was  merry  and 
gleeful.  She  sat  with  such  lady-like  composure,  yet 
such  a  charming  air  of  proprietorship,  and  dished  up 
the  viands,  smiling  and  joining  lightly  in  the  conversa 
tion  as  she  passed  the  cups  around,  her  blue  eyes  bright 
with  animation,  and  her  fair  face  visited  every  second 
by  a  host  of  freakish  dimples!  By  Jove!  as  I  sat  there 
and  watched  her  behind  the  big,  steaming  coffee-pot, 
and  received  such,  gentle,  kind  acknowledgment  to 
every  attention  I  bestowed,  I  made  up  my  mind  then 
and  there  to  have  a  little  table  of  my  own  some 
day,  presided  over  by  this  same  charming,  fair-faced 
little  school-ma'am.  The  idea  may  be  laughable  now, 
but  I  was  young  then.  I  presume  you  know  how  it 
is  yourself,  Doctor.  Quite  likely  you  had  just  such 


360  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

thoughts  when  you  were  a  young  man  with  fresh  feel 
ings  and  hopes." 

The  Doctor  turned  to  adjust  the  shade  at  the  window, 
thinking  sorrowfully  all  the  while  of  his  own  dead,  faded 
dream  of  love.  He  was  not  ashamed  because  it  had 
come  when  he  was  no  longer  youthful  and  full  of  strong, 
young  hope;  and  yet  the  story  that  George  was  telling 
so  carelessly  for  his  amusement  was  growing  strangely 
painful  by  coming  irreverently  and  harshly  close  to  his 
own  cherished  secret. 

u  O  no;  it  was  not  strange  that  you  should  have  had 
such  a  hope,"  he  replied  absently,  revolving  in  his  mind 
the  thought  that  other  men  had  cherished  just  such 
dreams  and  hopes  of  Lois  as  he,  and  vaguely  wonder 
ing — perhaps  a  little  impatiently  —  if  these  dreams 
had  held  for  others  such  a  sacred  loveliness  as  for  him. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  none  of  us  will  ever  forget  that 
night,"  continued  George,  warming  up  to  his  story  again. 
"  At  any  rate,  two  of  us  will  not,  —  Lois  and  myself. 
It  was  one  of  those  rare  seasons  of  life  when  all  care 
and  responsibility  seem  to  vanish,  and  the  hour  is  one 
of  unalloyed,  childlike  enjoyment,  with  a  full  capacity 
of  appreciation.  Lois  told  me  afterward  that  it  was 
one  of  the  very  happiest  she  had  ever  known.  Well, 
well;  Lois  was  a  thoroughly  good  little  girl,  after  all. 
Somehow  it  rather  stirs  me  up  to  recall  that  night, 
even  yet. 

"  The  prettiest  picture  in  all  my  recollection  of  Lois, 
except  perhaps  the  time  when  she  came  up  the  plank 
and  showed  her  neat  little  foot,  was  the  parting  one  that 
night  when  the  moon  had  risen  high  into  the  sky,  flood 
ing  with  light  the  level,  swampy  valley,  and  converting 


MEMORIES   OF   THE   SAN   JOAQUIN.  361 

the  dark,  restless  river  into  a  smooth,  broad,  glorious 
stream  of  silver. 

"  She  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  wharf,  surrounded  by 
the  picturesque  mystery  of  the  moonlit  plain  beyond 
the  dark  farther  shore,  her  trim,  shapely  figure  out 
lined  against  the  water,  and  the  cool  breeze  that  had 
sprung  up  playing  listlessly  with  the  little  brown  curls 
around  her  face.  The  boys  in  the  boat  below,  who 
were  getting  it  ready  for  embarkation,  just  then  struck 
up  the  sweet,  haunting  music  of  their  boat-song.  A 
silence  fell  over  the  waiting  groups  as  the  deep,  rich 
voices  rose  above  the  ripple  of  the  waters  washing 
against  the  piles  of  the  wharf,  and  Lois  stood  quiet, 
her  face  turned  toward  the  silvery  expanse  of  water 
in  a  dreamy  reverie,  and  the  moonlight  showering 
down  around  her,  touching  her  fair,  round  cheek,  and 
lighting  up  her  face  with  a  strange  new  beauty." 

The  Doctor  turned  away  again,  but  not  with  a  pain 
ful  thought.  Had  he  not  seen  Lois  in  one  of  those 
same  sweet  musings  that  day,  when,  as  he  was  driving 
away  from  the  little  red  school-house,  he  turned  and 
saw  her  standing  under  the  locust-trees,  looking  dream 
ily  out  toward  the  blue  line  of  far-off  hills?  He  had 
sometimes  wondered  if  Lois  seemed  so  gentle  and  lovely 
to  others  as  she  looked  to  him,  when  lost  in  those  fanci 
ful  thoughts.  He  had  his  answer  now.  It  was  not  a 
product  of  the  loving  esteem  in  which  he  held  her,  for 
others  had  seen  her  thus,  and  had  felt  the  delightful 
spell  that  he  had  known.  It  was  indeed  a  reality. 

"I  always  like  to  think  of  Lois  as  she  looked  then/' 
George  went  on.  "  I  have  a  little  picture  of  both  her 
self  and  her  character  in  the  thought;  for  when  the 


362  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

song  died  away  and  she  turned  toward  me,  I  naturally 
supposed  that  she  would  come  out  of  that  sentimental 
reverie,  her  eyes  heavy  with  tears.  But  no:  her  lace 
was  cheerful  and  bright  as  ever,  and  her  voice  musical 
in  its  steadiness,  when  she  held  out  her  hand,  saying 
cordially,  '  My  hand  for  good  night,  and  the  many 
thanks  which  I  cannot  express.'  '  But  not  good  by,  I 
hope,'  said  I,  appealingly.  '  May  I  not  see  you  again?' 
She  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  I  asked  permission 
to  call  upon  her,  which  she  granted. 

"I  waited  that  night  out  on  the  deserted  wharf  until 
the  song  of  the  boat's  crew,  faint  and  far,  was  hushed 
in  the  splash  and  gurgle  far  down  the  river,  thinking, 
with  a  pleasure  indescribable,  of  this  happy  diversion 
from  my  usual  lonely  life. 

"  But  that  was  about  the  last  of  my  solitude.  I  soon 
left  the  wharf,  and  came  here, — to  be  near  Lois,  and 
to  study  chemistry.  In.  a  few  months  we  were  engaged, 
and  you  can  imagine  my  trips  over  to  Locustville  be 
came  pretty  frequent,  and  my  circle  of  acquaintances 
there  correspondingly  large.  Confound  it  all!  I  might 
have  escaped  this  miserable  doom  if  I  had  stayed  here 
and  learned  of  Lois  how  to  be  better.  She  had  a  won 
derful  influence  over  me  for  good.  But  fate  denied 
me  just  at  the  time  when  I  was  most  happy  in  my  in 
fatuation  for  her,  and  was  enjoying  hugely  my  escapes 
from  the  snares  set  by  a  handsome,  black-eyed  widow 
over  here  in  Tenayee,  whom  nobody  knew  anything 
about. 

"  But  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  I  got  into  difficul 
ties  which  forced  me  to  move  out  of  town  for  good.  I 
was  friendly  with  a  set  of  medical  students  who  some- 


MEMORIES   OF   THE    SAN   JOAQUIN.  363 

times  got  up  rides  about  the  place;  and  since  I  kept  a 
horse,  —  principally  to  ride  over  to  Locustville  four  or 
five  times  a  week, —  I  often  joined  them.  A  lot  of  us 
kept  our  horses  in  the  pasture  of  a  little  old  man  who 
was  half  crazy,  always  drunk,  and  uglier  than  a  mad 
dog.  We  had  a  quarrel  with  him  every  time  we  wanted 
our  horses,  and  as  my  visits  were  most  frequent,  I 
consequently  had  more  trouble  with  him  than  the 
others.  He  accused  us  of  breaking  his  fences,  and  rid 
ing  over  his  garden-patch,  in  language  that  was  more 
than  strong;  and  so  one  night  we  boys  got  pretty  well 
fired  up,  and  determined  to  have  the  fun  of  doing 
a  little  of  the  mischief  he  accused  us  of  perpetrating. 
I  got  some  poison  from  the  chemicals  I  worked  with, 
and  in  a  body  we  set  out  to  the  old  man's  barn,  where 
he  kept  a  snarling  bull-dog  ready  to  be  turned  loose  on 
us  when  the  old  wretch's  whim  dictated.  We  were 
intending  to  feast  this  precious  animal  on  a  piece  of 
meat  thickly  buttered  with  strychnine,  but  the  vile 
thing  made  a  disturbance,  and  we  just  escaped  out- 
and-out  detection  by  beating  a  rapid  retreat.  In  my 
hurry  I  dropped  the  bottle  of  poison  on  the  hay,  with 
the  cork  out,  and  of  course  the  stuff  was  spilled,  and  so 
after  that  the  old  fellow's  chickens  mysteriously  died 
off  in  great  numbers,  and  a  valuable  cow  passed  in  her 
checks  for  the  great  unknown.  It  was  an  unfortunate 
piece  of  business,  but  doubly  so  for  me;  for  when  the 
bottle  was  found,  it  bore  the  label  of  the  drug-store 
where  I  pursued  by  studies,  and  also  private  marks 
in  my  handwriting,  and  so  of  course  suspicion  pointed 
directly  to  me  as  the  agent  of  the  wrong.  I  had  been 
on  the  worst  possible  terms  with  the  old  man,  and 


364  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

hence  I  must  have  maliciously  poisoned  his  hay  for 
revenge.  I  had  plenty  of  friends  in  the  place  who 
were  willing  to  stick  to  me,  but  I  was  only  interested 
in  keeping  the  matter  from  a  public  airing.  I  knew  if 
I  were  even  accused  of  such  a  thing  it  would  break 
Lois's  heart  and  destroy  our  happiness.  She  would 
know  —  for  she  was  not  a  love-blind  maiden  —  that  I 
had  had  something  to  do  with  the  controversy  in  a  re 
mote  sort  of  way,  since  I  had  once  or  twice  related  my 
quarrels  with  the  old  man,  and  she  had  steadily  advised 
me  to  find  another  pasture  for  my  horse.  But  the  thing 
could  n't  be  helped.  I  had  to  keep  it  quiet  or  lose  Lois, 
for  she  could  never  accept  me  if  a  suspicion  rested 
on  my  name,  nor  endure  the  ugly  process  of  the  court 
to  establish  my  innocence.  If  I  had  had  money,  the 
trouble  would  have  vanished  immediately,  but  I  was 
poor,  and  did  n't  dare  to  borrow;  so  I  had  to  bear  the 
consequences  of  my  foolish  prank. 

"  Finally  the  old  man  sent  me  word  that  if  I  didn't 
leave  town  in  a  week  he  would  prosecute  me.  I  think 
he  was  afraid  of  me,  and  preferred  the  freedom  from 
my  company  in  town  to  my  punishment.  He  was 
universally  disliked,  and  I  probably  should  have  got 
clear  if  he  had  carried  out  his  threats;  but  if  I  had  to 
lose  Lois,  I  preferred  doing  it  in  the  way  most  agreeable 
to  myself;  and  so,  since  I  had  a  good  offer  to  go  to  the 
mines,  I  determined  to  take  it  and  cut  loose  from  the 
old  ties  forever. 

"Nellie  Minton  was  in  Locustville  on  a  second  visit 
just  then,  and  hence  I  availed  myself  of  my  old  ally  in 
this  extremity.  There  had  been  a  certain  sympathy 
between  us  from  the  first.  She  had  been  Lois's  friend, 


MEMORIES   OF   THE    SAN   JOAQUIN.  365 

and  had  divulged  little  secrets  to  me,  and  helped  me 
along  somewhat  in  my  suit,  for  which  I  assure  you  she 
lost  nothing. 

"  The  scheming  minx  had  heard  a  rumor  of  the  dif 
ficulty  from  a  special  source  of  gossip,  or  I  should  have 
been  very  clear  of  giving  her  an  inkling  of  it;  hut  since 
she  already  knew  something,  the  best  way  to  stop  her 
prying  was  to  tell  her  enough  to  satisfy  her  notion  of 
the  thing.  So  I  told  her  the  danger  I  was  in,  and  got 
her  to  arrange  my  departure.  I  was  hurriedly  called 
away,  she  was  to  say,  but  I  was  to  return  in  a  few 
days.  This  I  was  supposed  to  have  told  her  at  an 
accidental  meeting  as  I  was  leaving  town.  She  had 
friends  in  the  place  whither  I  was  bound,  and  hence 
that  fact  would  establish  a  subsequent  source  of  news 
from  me  through  her.  She  was  to  give  my  farewell  to 
Lois,  and  assure  the  devoted  girl  of  my  inability  to  see 
her  before  I  went,  and  that  I  would  call  immediately 
after  my  return  and  explain  the  lucky  business  ven 
ture  that  called  me  away.  I  wrote  her  a  short  note 
also,  but  to  avoid  suspicion  I  had  to  abridge  it  greatly, 
and  trust  the  most  lengthy  explanations  to  Nellie. 

"  Of  course,  by  a  fortnight  conjectures  were  ex 
hausted  about  the  delay  in  my  return,  and  even  the 
most  incredulous  believed  that  something  of  a  serious 
nature  had  detained  me.  A  letter  from  Nellie,  from  the 
city  where  she  had  sent  it  to  be  posted,  informed  me  that 
Lois  was  nearly  frantic  with  anxiety,  and  regardless  of 
appearances  intended  to  start  herself  or  send  a  mes 
senger  to  the  place  whither  I  was  supposed  to  have 
gone.  She  never  for  a  moment  doubted  that  I  was  in 
need  of  her  help,  and  that  insurmountable  obstacles 


366  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

forced  my  silence.  Poor  Lois!  She  was  so  trustful 
and  loving,  I  was  sorry  to  give  her  pain. 

"  So  then  I  had  to  make  the  final  stroke  and  close 
my  career  for  good,  and  thus  prevent  Lois's  intention 
of  rendering  aid  in  the  unknown  trouble  that  detained 
me.  The  news  came  indirectly  through  Nellie's  friends 
that  I  had  been  drowned  in  the  San  Joaquin  imme 
diately  on  my  arrival  at  that  town.  At  first  I  had 
mysteriously  disappeared,  and  then,  after  several  days, 
the  body  of  an  unknown  man  had  been  found  in  the 
river,  —  it  quite  often  happens  that  such  is  the  case, — 
but  it  was  so  far  decomposed  as  to  prevent  recognition, 
although  from  the  size  it  might  possibly  have  been 
mine.  Of  course  all  of  the  rumors  from  Nellie's  friends 
were  fabrications,  except  the  finding  of  the  dead  stran 
ger;  but  it  had  to  be  fixed  up  that  way  in  order  to 
make  the  thing  more  certain,  for  if  there  was  much  of 
a  doubt  Lois  would  be  sure  to  investigate.  The  body 
was  buried,  and  since  the  place  where  I  was  supposed 
to  have  met  my  untimely  end  was  a  long  distance  from 
Tenayec,  of  course  no  one  had  a  chance  to  inquire  into 
the  facts  at  all;  and  when,  afterward,  Lois  went  to  find 
my  supposed  last  resting-place,  with  a  little  sum  that 
she  had  saved  to  erect  a  stone  and  fix  it  up  a  bit,  no 
one  could  point  out  the  exact  spot  where  the  stranger 
was  buried,  —  nor  tell  her  anything  of  the  alleged 
rumors,  either,  I '11  warrant.  But  of  course  the  trust 
ful  girl  was  satisfied  with  what  she  knew,  for  she  felt 
certain  that  I  would  have  come  to  her  if  in  the  land 
of  the  living. 

"  Poor  Lois!  I  trust  she  enjoyed  herself  hugely 
spending  the  money  on  ribbons  and  such  things.  And 
that  was  the  end  of  our  little  romance. 


MEMORIES   OF   THE    SAN   JOAQUIN.  367 

"As  for  me,  I  went  off  to  the  mines,  and  becoming 
interested  in  ores,  I  have  travelled  about  extensively 
since  then  all  over  the  coast,  being  reasonably  success 
ful  as  an  assayer.  It  was  not  long  before  the  new  life 
swallowed  up  the  old,  and  I  soon  found  comfort  for 
what  I  supposed  to  be  my  broken  heart.  That  being 
my  first  serious  affair,  of  course  I  did  not  understand 
how  soon  one  can  be  comforted  with  a  second.  I  have 
ha'd  several  since,  one  desperately  earnest  which  turned 
out  miserably  for  me,  and  far  more  so  for  the  other  fel 
low  in  the  game,  as  /  happen  to  know" 

His  eyes,  that  had  gazed  so  calmly  on  the  Doctor's 
quiet  face,  grew  dark  and  wild  and  unsteady  with  his 
last  words,  as  if  his  mind,  grown  weak  with  suffering, 
was  roused  to  painful  madness  by  these  memories. 

The  Doctor  tried  to  calm  him,  and  lead  his  thoughts 
back  to  Lois,  and  the  restful  sweetness  associated  with 
her.  Rising  to  go,  and  arranging  in  his  usual  hurried 
way  his  medicine-case,  he  said,  "Have  you  never  heard 
from  your  friends  here  since  you  left?" 

George  sank  back  on  his  pillow  with  a  sigh,  showing 
his  relief  that  he  had  not  betrayed  himself  by  ventur 
ing  farther  on  dangerous  ground.  He  closed  his  eyes 
as  if  soothed  by  the  older,  sweeter  memories  of  Lois  and 
his  first  youthful  love,  and  as  if  willing  to  repose  in  its 
comforting  tranquillity. 

"  O  yes,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  the  Doctor's  question; 
"  indirectly  I  have  heard,  several  times.  But  the  events 
in  which  I  figured  have  faded  out  most  completely 
by  this  time,  I  presume;  and  yet  to  me,  coming  to  this 
town  and  reviving  again  its  slumbering  memories,  the 
past  rises  up  before  me  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday  that 


368  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

I  walked  the  streets  of  Locustville;  and  I  can  see  as 
plainly  as  if  they  lay  before  me  all  those  old,  dead 
scenes  of  my  life, — the  rolling  hills,  treeless  and  stub 
ble-grown,  the  quaint  green  gardens,  and  the  blossom 
ing,  feathery-leaved  trees  that  lined  the  shady  streets, 
the  white,  winding  roads,  and  even  those  first  pictures 
of  the  night-time  on  the  river  at  the  little  wharf,  robbed 
now  of  everything  wearisome  and  lonely,  and  surrounded 
by  a  vague,  sweet  charm,  new  yet  full  of  all  its  ancient 
magic,  like  the  returning,  faint,  far  echoes  of  some  long- 
forgotten  melody." 


LOIS  AT   HOME.  369 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

LOIS   AT   HOME. 

I  have  forgotten  all  the  love  you  gave  me, 

And  all  the  tender  words  you  ever  said; 
I  have  unbound  the  chains  that  did  enslave  me, 

And  sealed  the  tears  they  cost  me  with  the  dea  • 
Thou  wert  a  god  in  an  enchanted  heaven, 

Wherein  I  dwelt  for  one  bright  summer  day; 
But  now  thou  art  forgotten,  — and  forgiven; 

For  thou  wert  not  to  blame  for  being  clay. 

Selected. 

Strange  phantoms  rising  as  the  mists  arise. 

POPE. 

OUT  where  the  woodland  steeped  the  pure,  clear 
mountain  air  with  the  sweet  aroma  of  the  pine,  Lois 
spent  many  hours  of  the  cool,  bright  days  that  followed 
her  return  home,  looking  with  a  new  interest  on  the  land 
scape  that  held  so  much  of  grandeur  and  tender  beauty 
for  her  eyes.  All  her  cherished  memories  of  those 
majestic  scenes  lost  their  charm  when  compared  to  the 
reality,  she  felt;  and  yet  there  was  something  lacking, 
—  something  she  had  expected  to  find  in  her  native 
hills  which  she  still  missed.  She  loved  to  be  alone  in 
those  days.  There  was  a  dreamy  charm  in  wander 
ing  through  the  still  pine  woods,  with  no  other  com 
panion  than  her  own  thoughts  and  memories,  seeing 
how,  during  the  years  of  her  absence,  this  narrow 
creek  had  worn  a  deeper,  darker  channel  through  the 
caiion;  how  that  old  tree  had  lost  its  leaves  and  green 


370  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

branches  forever,  and  stood  naked  and  riven  against 
the  sky  that  had  once  nourished  it  so  tenderly  with 
refreshing  rain  and  warming  sun;  and  how  some  old 
trail  she  had  followed  in  her  childhood  had  lost  itself 
in  a  rank,  tall  growth  of  ferns  and  grasses.  She  surely 
loved  her  own  people  with  the  same  fervency  as  of  old, 
and  yet  she  realized  that  her  life  had  somehow  grown 
apart  from  theirs,  and  in  those  thoughts  and  feelings 
she  longed  to  entertain  they  could  have  no  share.  Her 
life  needed  something  which  the  old  home  —  though 
perfect  and  inexpressibly  dear  to  her  still  —  could  not 
supply.  She  tried  to  persuade  herself  she  had  out 
grown  it;  that  the  expansion  of  her  feelings  needed 
yet  other  interests  and  hopes;  that  her  little  school  of 
children,  every  one  of  whose  childish,  innocent  faces 
were  dear  to  her,  the  friends  in  that  little  valley  town 
far  away,  and  her  all-absorbing  work,  had  so  grown 
into  her  life  that  the  old  home,  though  incomparably 
dearer  than  all  these,  could  not  quite  compensate  her 
for  the  loss  of  them. 

It  was  in  a  measure  true.  She  had  outgrown  a  good 
deal  of  the  old  life;  and  yet  why  was  it  that  most 
of  the  years  that  intervened  held  but  little  part 
in  her  cherished  memories?  The  truth  was,  that  she 
did  not  want  to  understand  herself.  She  scarcely 
dared  to  admit  the  truth,  and  so  she  strove  to  explain 
away  her  feelings  with  whatever  excuse  she  could. 
The  time  had  come  when,  although  her  home  and  her 
own  people  held  their  old  share  in  her  affections,  there 
was  still  another  place  unfilled,  one  which  she  had 
thought  could  never  be  occupied  again  after  the  loss 
of  her  early  love,  the  emptiness  of  which  made  her 
life  imperfect  and  lonely. 


LOIS   AT   HOME.  371 

The  shock  of  discovering  George's  unfaithfulness  to 
her  trustful  love  had  been  severe  at  first,  but  it  had 
quickly  given  place  to  happier,  more  peaceful  feelings. 
Always  in  her  thoughts  of  that  awful  day  she  had 
unconsciously  taken  refuge  in  the  Doctor's  protecting 
friendship,  and  it  gave  her  a  comfort  that  served  al 
most  as  a  recompense  for  all  the  pain  she  had  suffered. 
"  After  all,"  she  thought,  "  the  wound  in  my  heart  was 
no  longer  fresh,  and  had  left  only  its  scar,  which 
throbbed  sometimes  with  the  old  pain.  Years  had 
passed,  and  both  the  sorrow  and  the  joy  I  once  felt 
had  been  worn  away  by  my  busy  life  into  only  a 
sacred  memory,  and  at  the  last  it  held  no  active  part 
in  my  feelings  or  my  hopes,  though  I  fondly  imagined 
it  satisfied  my  whole  life." 

Looking  back,  the  first  years  she  had  spent  at  Locust- 
ville  seemed  like  a  dream,  receding  farther  and  farther 
into  the  past.  She  could  dwell  calmly  on  the  old 
scenes  that  had  once  held  such  a  mighty  power  over 
her  young  heart,  and  smile  coldly  on  the  strange  charm 
which  then  enchained  her.  And  yet  that  last  summer 
somehow  came  back  to  her  in  rare,  sweet  glimpses  of 
joy  which  she  could  not  put  aside.  "  It  was  because 
the  Doctor  was  so  good  to  me,  after  all  the  years  of 
sorrow  I  had  lived  through  alone,"  she  thought.  "  I 
am  strong,  but  for  that  very  reason  it  seems  a  relief 
which  is  almost  a  delight  to  put  away  the  burdens  for 
a  little  while,  and  lean  trustingly  in  the  dark  hours 
of  weariness  and  discouragement  on  some  good,  tried 
friend  who  is  loyal  and  earnest  in  every  thought  and 
word.  How  kindly  he  helped  me  when  that  last  bitter 
stroke  came  that  shut  out  of  my  past  all  its  sad  but 


372  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

sacred  sweetness!  The  unspoken  sympathy  he  gave 
me  was  more  and  better  than  anything  he  could  have 
said.  I  can  never  be  grateful  enough  to  my  good 
friend."  But  she  did  not  realize  how  far  she  had  al 
lowed  him  to  enter  into  her  heart,  so  that  when  the 
time  came  for  his  help  and  kindness,  he  had  been 
in  a  position  to  render  her  the  mute  sympathy  which 
she  could  accept.  "The  Doctor  is  peculiar,"  she 
thought,  while  trying  to  explain  her  own  feelings,  and 
excuse  them  somewhat  to  herself.  "  One  could  never 
regard  him  as  an  ordinary  person.  He  is  so  constant, 
so  upright,  so  kind,  and  yet  so  different  from  every  one 
else;  somehow  every  event  in  our  acquaintance  is  as 
firmly  fixed  in  my  memory  as  if  I  had  a  vital  interest 
in  it.  From  that  day  when  I  first  saw  him  driving 
through  the  streets  of  Locustville,  the  picture  he  made 
in  my  mind  has  but  gained  greater  interest  with  every 
subsequent  meeting,  until  I  really  feel  as  if  it  were 
something  very  pleasant,  and  happened  just  as  I  would 
like  to  have  had  it,  considering  how  I  have  come  to  re 
spect  the  Doctor  since.  I  am  glad  it  made  an  impres 
sion  on  my  mind,  and  yet  I  do  so  wonder  why  it  did. 
I  cannot  explain  it,  and  cannot  be  thankful  enough 
that  he  was  so  friendly  in  those  last  bitter  days  of  the 
revival  of  old  thoughts  and  feelings.  I  should  have 
sunk  utterly  in  despairing  sorrow  but  for  the  thought 
of  him  which  sustained  me.  It  is  because  his  char 
acter  is  so  strangely  kind,  that  it  fastens  itself  on  one's 
mind  strongly  and  irresistibly."  Yet  Lois  would  not 
admit  that  it  was  because  she  missed  the  Doctor  that 
her  old  home  had  lost  something  of  its  satisfying  charm. 
Still  less  would  she  acknowledge  that  it  had  anything 


LOIS  AT   HOME.  373 

to  do  with  her  fondness  for  Locustville  and  its  quiet, 
rural  scenes.  She  told  herself  that  she  loved  it  because 
the  best  of  her  happiness  there  and  her  sacred  memories 
had  utterly  and  miserably  perished;  and  since  our  lives 
nlust  grow  more  or  less  by  our  environments  and  our 
every-day  associations,  she  had  transferred  some  of 
that  disappointed  affection  to  her  adopted  home,  be 
cause  its  familiar  features  had  endeared  themselves  to 
her  empty  heart. 

And  sitting  there  alone  in  the  still,  majestic  woods, 
so  utterly  removed  from  the  influence  of  the  outer 
world,  Lois  let  the  tender  beauty  of  nature  all  around 
her  pour  into  her  heart  a  soothing  peace,  and  soften  all 
its  sorrows,  its  hopes,  its  fears,  into  something  calm 
and  trustful  and  happy.  And  many  a  time  while  half 
reclining  in  some  moss-covered  niche  in  a  wall  of  gray, 
rugged  rocks,  and  watching  the  hazes  of  the  Indian 
summer  veil  the  mountains  in  a  cloud  of  purple  smoke, 
and  when,  as  the  day  declined  and  the  red  sunlight  fell 
aslant  upon  the  twilight-gathering  peaks,  she  saw  it 
grow  thicker  and  more  glorious  in  the  failing  light,  and 
change  into  a  bright  mist  over  all  the  landscapes,  like 
the  pearly  bloom  upon  the  blueness  of  the  grape,  the 
thought  would  come,  "  How  grandly  beautiful  it  is  up 
here!  —  so  wild,  so  boundless,  and  so  free,  like  one's 
visions  of  the  celestial  mountains";  and  then  with  a 
little  pang  her  fond  heart  would  return  to  other  scenes 
in  the  far-away  valley,  as  if  afraid  that  by  her  moment 
ary  forgetfulness  she  had  been  disloyal  in  her  love  for 
them. 

For  often  there  returned  to  her  remembrances  of  that 
pleasant  valley  country,  with  its  pretty  homes,  its  bios- 


374  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

soming  gardens,  and  its  quaint,  green  orchards,  dotting 
the  broad  expanse  of  golden  grain-fields  that  stretched 
far  and  wide  over  the  rolling  slopes;  and  thoughts  also 
of  the  quiet,  village,  its  broad,  shady  streets  leading  out 
past  many  trim,  neat  houses,  until  at  last  they  ended 
in  the  wide  pastures  where  the  road  grew  hard  and 
smooth,  and  the  leaf-strewn  sidewalks  gave  place  to 
narrow  paths  along  the  fences  and  beneath  the  shelter 
ing  locusts.  And  chief  among  those  pleasant  scenes 
she  recalled  the  homeward  drives  she  had  taken  with 
the  Doctor,  when  the  day  grew  late  and  the  sunlight 
was  waning  into  a  subdued  and  mellow  splendor.  The 
atmosphere  of  contentment  and  peace  which  the  Doc 
tor  always  brought  with  him  associated  itself  with  the 
memories  of  those  times,  and  brought  a  quiet  rapture 
unlike  anything  she  had  ever  felt  before.  And  so  no 
wonder  she  liked  to  return  to  those  scenes,  when  with 
the  recollection  of  the  endless  apple  orchards  by  the 
roadside,  shadowy  with  rich,  dark  leaves  that  hid  the 
ripening  fruit,  the  low  buzz  of  the  bees  flying  slowly  in 
and  out  between  the  fence-pickets  from  the  odorous 
clover-beds,  the  sunlight  fluttering  in  a  soft  glory  of 
tender  green  and  fretted  gold  on  the  feathery  leaves 
of  the  locust  avenues,  and  the  drowsy,  evening  quiet 
gathering  slowly  as  they  drove  along,  there  came  back 
also  the  thrill  of  joy  and  tranquillity  that  seemed 
sweeter  and  lovelier  with  each  returning. 

The  hard  and  bitter  experiences  Lois  had  borne  were 
all  forgotten,  and  her  early  youth  renewed,  when  she 
and  the  girls  rummaged  through  the  old  garret  after 
books  and  pictures  they  had  enjoyed  in  their  child 
hood,  or  searched  through  the  hay-scented  barn  for 
nests  of  eggs. 


LOIS    AT    HOME.  01  5 

They  all  seemed  to  be  so  proud  of  her,  so  kind,  so 
loving.  Not  a  shade  of  the  old  love  had  died  out  of  their 
hearts,  and  they  took  up  their  former  life  right  where 
it  had  ended.  Ah!  what  evenings  they  had,  seated 
around  the  blazing  hearth,  recalling  the  old  times,  liv 
ing  again  in  the  by-gone  days!  Lois  had  many  things 
to  tell;  how  busy  her  life  had  been,  how  happy  some 
times,  at  others  how  sad  and  lonely.  And  then  the 
girls  would  think  of  innumerable  questions  to  ask 
about  the  people  they  had  met  in  Locustville  on  their 
short  visits  to  Lois  there,  and  John  —  rnischeivous, 
kind-hearted,  faithful  John  —  would  make  some  ab 
surd  remark  which  would  set  the  company  all  to 
laughing,  and  the  long  evening  would  scarcely  seem 
to  have  begun  before  the  ash-frosted  embers  on  the 
hearth,  and  Aunt  Jemima  also,  warned  them  that 
people  sometimes  went  to  bed  at  night.  Two.  three, 
often  four  reminders  had  to  be  given  before  they  could 
be  persuaded  to  disperse,  and  then  only  on  compulsion 
from  Lois,  who  would  assure  Aunt  Jemima,  whose 
kind  face  would  sometimes  look  a  little  weary  and 
troubled,  that  they  would  all  be  safely  out  of  the  way 
in  five  minutes,  and  the  promise  was  always  kept. 

Dear,  good  Aunt  Jemima!  Many  were  the  talks  die 
and  Lois  had  alone.  Lois  scarcely  realized  that  this 
kind  aunt  was  not  really  her  own  mother.  She  had 
never  known  another  home,  and  cherished  but  a  dim 
remembrance  of  eome  one  long  ago  who  used  to  call 
her  his  own  dear  little  blue-eyed  girl.  Her  father  had 
been  a  minister,  whose  field  of  labor  lay  in  the  old  town 
near  Lucky  Streak.  There,  in  the  little  willow-mantled 
church  now  mouldering  into  ruin,  he  had  preached  for 


376  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

several  years,  working  bravely,  and  striving  to  bear  up 
against  the  loss  of  his  young  wife  and  the  many  dis 
couragements  of  his  hard  lot.  But  finally,  while  Lois 
was  almost  a  baby  still,  he  fell  sick,  his  sensitive  spirit 
unable  alone  to  battle  against  adversity.  He  lingered 
for  several  months,  nursed  kindly  by  his  wife's  eldest 
sister,  Mrs.  Robinson,  and  at  last  died,  leaving  his  little 
girl  to  the  care  and  protection  of  her  loving  aunt.  From 
him  Lois  inherited  all  the  poetry  and  sentiment  of  her 
nature,  much  of  the  pitying  charity,  and  the  strong 
and  changeless  affection.  And  so  around  her  adopted 
home  twined  all  the  close,  unseverable  ties  which  child 
hood  had  formed  and  after  years  had  strengthened. 

Lois  had  been  home  a  week  or  more,  when  one  even 
ing  the  stage -driver  handed  down  a  letter  for  her,  post 
marked  Locustville,  that  made  her  heart  beat  faster 
and  her  eyes  shine,  as  she  looked  at  the  superscription 
and  failed  to  recognize  Mrs.  Mills's  hastily  written 
direction.  The  girls  teased  her  a  little  about  her  agita 
tion  and  the  delicate  blush  that  betrayed  her,  suggest 
ing  a  beau,  and  the  like;  but  Lois,  almost  oblivious  of 
it  all.  escaped  to  her  own  room  where  she  could  read 
her  letter  in  peace.  She  hardly  dared  to  open  it  for 
fear  of  disappointment,  she  was  so  anxious  that  it 
should  prove  to  be  from  Dr.  Knapp;  but  at  last,  gather 
ing  courage,  she  was  rewarded  by  finding  that  it  was. 
"  Whether  it  will  please  you  or  not  to  know  that  your 
vacation  has  been  lengthened,  I  cannot  say,  but  I  will 
venture  to  guess,"  he  wrote;  "and  I  think  it  will.  At 
any  rate,  it  pleases  me.  I  know  that  you  are  in  need 
of  it,  and  I  feel  that  a  few  weeks  of  rest  and  change 
will  do  much  to  bring  back  the  sparkle  to  your  eyes 


LOIS   AT    HOME.  377 

which  so  many  months  of  constant  toil  had  somewhat 
worn  away.  However,  you  have  no  choice  now,  for  the 
trustees  have  decided  that  school  shall  begin  two  weeks 
later  than  was  at  first  intended,  the  new  roof  taking 
more  time  than  was  expected.  As  you  already  know, 
the  suggestion  of  making  repairs  was  not  made  until 
nearly  time  for  school  to  begin,  and  then  it  was  calcu 
lated  that  a  week  or  two  would  be  ample  time  to  com 
plete  them.  But  that  was  a  mistake,  and  your  school 
must  commence  more  than  a  month  late.  It  seems 
almost  like  a  providential  delay,  since  thereby  your 
kindness  to  Mrs.  Mills  did  not  compel  you  to  forego 
your  much  desired  visit  home. 

"To  you,  far  away  amid  other  scenes,  my  thought 
often  wanders;  for  into  my  solitary  life  few  friends  like 
you  have  ever  come,  and  when  I  miss  you,  I  thereby 
miss  much  of  the  sunshine  that  brightens  my  way." 
Lois  liked  that  last  paragraph.  She  lingered  over  it 
without  reading  farther  for  a  moment,  unconsciously 
fearful  that  the  Doctor  might  spoil  the  thrill  of  pleas 
ure  it  gave  her  by  some  dignified  expression  of  his 
feelings,  which  would  make  her  feel  quite  like  a  merry 
child  whose  lively  play  he  missed.  He  had  often  done 
this,  when  by  some  tender  thought,  expressed  with 
gentle  feeling,  she  had  felt  her  heart  stirred  strangely 
by  his  words;  and  then,  as  if  suddenly  remembering 
to  whom  he  spoke,  he  would  quickly  change  his  mood, 
and  rudely  dissolve  the  spell  by  the  utterance  of  some 
commonplace  thought.  And  now,  more  than  ever  she 
longed  to  keep  that  little  touch  of  sweetness,  marred 
as  it  was  by  the  fear  that  the  Doctor  did  nut  quite 
mean  what  he  wrote;  that  in  his  next  sentence  ho 


878  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

wtrald  so  qualify  it  as  to  take  away  all  its  best  force 
and  meaning.  These  feelings  were  BO  unconsciously 
indulged  that  Lois  did  not  for  a  moment  realize  why 
she  paused  and  looked  out  upon  the  scene  below  her 
window,  where  the  hostler  was  hitching  fresh  horses  to 
the  great,  untiring  stage,  and  the  dimly  lighted  lamps 
cast  a  warm,  yellow  glow  over  the  rapidly  moving 
figures. 

But  when  she  resumed  her  reading,  the  pleasure  she 
had  already  found  was  not  disturbed  by  anything  the 
Doctor  wrote.  "  Mrs.  Mills  deputized  me  to  write  this 
letter,"  he  continued,  after  some  further  explanation 
about  the  school  and  the  vacation.  "She  said  that 
eince  it  became  my  duty  to  inform  her  of  the  news,  I 
could  best  explain  anything  of  a  business  nature  to 
you;  and  though  I  feel  that  I  can  but  poorly  satisfy 
the  many  questions  in  your  mind  upon  the  subject,  I 
have  undertaken  it  for  the  pleasure  it  affords  me. 
Your  many  friends  in  Locustville  arc  watching  pa 
tiently  for  your  return.  Often  when  coming  out  of 
Mrs.  Mills's  gate,  some  one  accosts  me  with  the  inquiry 
if  she  has  told  me  anything  from  you.  And  in  the 
hospital  there  have  been  grateful  remembrances  of 
your  ministrations.  Nettie  supplies  me  with  flowers 
now;  and  though  the  summer  is  dead,  she  still  finds 
many  fragrant  clusters.  You  know  how  exhaustless 
the  blossoms  seem  in  that  queer  old  garden  around 
her  grandma's  house."  Little  did  Lois  know,  as  she 
read  this,  what  the  Doctor  was  thinking  of  when  he 
wrote  it,  —  how  it  recalled  a  day  of  early  spring  when 
the  flowers  ran  riot  over  everything  in  that  tangled 
garden,  and  the  perfumes  floated  over  it  so  delightful 


LOIS   AT    HOME.  379 

and  so  rare  that  they  suggested  southern  isles  freighted 
to  the  water's  edge  with  fadeless  tropic  bloom;  and 
how  when  the  sunshine  warmed  the  buds  into  blos 
soms  new  and  beautiful,  his  own  heart  had  opened  like 
the  flowers,  and  had  let  so  much  of  the  glorious  sun 
light  of  love  pour  into  it,  that  he  never  could  shut  it 
up  again.  And  so  no  wonder  that  his  letter  became  a 
little  disconnected  just  there,  where  he  had  stopped 
so  long  to  dream;  but  Lois  stopped  too,  and  did  not 
notice  it. 

Her  mind  returned  to  Mrs.  Hunman's  garden  also, 
but  with  mingled  feelings  of  mortification  and  pleasure. 
Associated  as  it  was  with  drowsy  peace  and  homelike 
loveliness,  there  still  came  back  to  her  the  time  when 
she  had  seen  a  picture,  framed  by  the  rank,  tall 
hollyhocks,  of  the  back  garden  where  Nettie  and  the 
Doctor  hung  out  the  clothes  to  dry.  She  was  a  little 
ashamed  of  the  feelings  she  had  then  indulged.  She 
had  been  unjust  to  the  Doctor;  and  yet  she  remembered 
another  garden  scene  with  Nettie  and  Byron  in  it,  which 
roused  very  painful  thoughts.  She  had  felt  somewhat 
contemptuous  about  these  little  incidents,  for  it  had 
seemed  rather  out  of  keeping  with  the  Doctor's  grave 
character  that  he  should  so  pet  and  humor  the  sharp- 
tongued,  fractious  Nettie.  Now,  with  many  protests, 
she  acknowledged  that  perhaps  the  faintest  shade  of 
jealousy  had  chilled  her  heart,  and  had  deterred  her 
from  skilfully  removing  all  misunderstandings,  and 
establishing  the  most  complete  good  feeling  instead. 
A  rosy  blush  spread  over  her  fair  face  as  she  recalled 
it.  "I  was  so  much  older  than  Nettie,"  she  thought. 
"How  wofully  absurd  of  me  to  feel  so!  To  be  sure,  I 


380  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN    DEEP. 

disliked  her,  and  then  I  thought  she  had  no  right  to 
aspire  for  the  favor  of  such  a  glorious  man  as  Dr. 
Knapp,  she  was  so  incapable  of  appreciating  it  prop 
erly."  But  Lois  did  not  even  give  the  form  of  thought 
to  the  feeling  she  was  vaguely  conscious  of  possessing, 
— that  she  had  made  the  mistake  of  thinking  Nettie 
was  somewhat  too  much  interested  in  the  Doctor's 
friendship.  However,  she  mentally  reproved  herself. 
"  My  conduct  was  very  foolish!  I  had  no  reason  to 
think  myself  in  Nettie's  way,  and  on  that  account  to 
avoid  her  altogether.  Ah!  why  did  I  not  let  her  see 
that  we  both  might  have  Dr.  Knapp  for  a  friend,  with 
out  quarrelling  about  it  either?"  Poor  Lois,  uncon 
scious  of  it  as  she  had  been  at  the  time,  her  heart  slowly 
yielding  itself  to  the  Doctor's  influence  had  suffered  a 
wound  when  in  the  arbor  she  had  heard  Nettie's  bois 
terous  lamcntings,  though  she  had  attributed  her  pain 
to  another  cause.  She  did  not  know  what  a  strong  hold 
he  already  had  upon  her  affections;  she  did  not  realize 
that  her  life,  deprived  as  it  had  been  of  the  boundless 
beauty  of  gentleness  and  love,  was  being  supplied  with 
just  these  very  things,  which  she  took  without  ques 
tioning  the  reposeful  trust  they  purchased  for  her. 

When  she  returned  to  her  letter,  her  cheek  still 
burned  with  mortification.  She  could  afford  to  be 
generous  now.  The  Doctor  was  really  hers,  —  a  friend 
who  protected  and  cared  for  her,  and  remained  faithful 
through  every  circumstance.  "I  must  atone  for  my 
unreasonable  behavior,  and  try  to  forget  it  utterly,"  she 
said  to  herself.  "  When  I  go  back  to  Locustville,  I 
shall  call  to  see  the  Hunmans  again,  make  friends 
with  Nettie,  and  resume  my  old  associations  with 


LOIS  AT   HOME.  381 

them,  regardless  of  the  foolish  fears  that  once  drove 
me  away;  yes," — and  her  face  grew  quiet  and  happy, 
as  if  her  eyes,  looking  afar  into  the  future,  saw  some 
thing  sweet  worth  living  for,  —  "yes,  we  will  take  our 
drives  out  to  the  hospital,  even  though  it  be  winter  and 
the  roads  muddy.  I  'm  sure  I  shall  not  dread  the  old 
place  if  the  Doctor  is  with  me.  And  some  day  I  will 
tell  him  my  story.  He  will  sympathize  with  me,  I  am 
sure,  in  a  way  that  will  make  the  old  trouble  vanish. 
Oh!  I  must  try  to  be  so  good  to  him  when  I  return;  I 
owe  him  more  than  I  can  ever  repay,  but  I  shall  try  to 
reward  him  some  way,  though  of  course  he  could  not 
like  me  well  enough  to  let  me  do  very  much  to  show  the 
friendship  that  will  never,  never  die  out  of  my  heart." 
Lois  blushed  again,  a  bright  rose-color,  because  of  the 
boldness  of  her  thoughts;  they  so  startled  her  that 
when  she  looked  down  again  upon  the  letter  she  held 
in  her  hand  she  was  almost  ashamed  to  finish  it. 

But  she  was  relieved  inexpressibly  by  something  the 
Doctor  wrote  toward  the  last  of  his  letter.  By  a  few 
carefully  worded  sentences,  she  knew  he  meant  that 
he  was  guarding  her  from  any  painful  circumstances 
that  might  arise  from  the  presence  of  the  stranger  in 
the  hospital.  She  understood  that  the  end  of  one  sad 
chapter  in  her  life  was  near, — that  ere  the  letter  reached 
her  all  would  be  over,  but  she  was  comforted  with  the 
assurance  that  some  one  was  there  to  perform  the  kind 
offices  her  forgiving  heart  would  prompt  in  that  last, 
sorrowful  extremity.  And  then  a  great  wave  of  peace 
swept  over  her,  —  a  peace  that  could  nevermore  be 
broken  by  that  old  loss  which  made  her  life  so  sweetly 
sad,  and  she  said,  looking  back  upon  it  all  with  a  calm, 


382  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

untroubled  spirit,  "It  is  better  so.  I  am  wiser,  stronger, 
for  that  sorrow;  and  I  am  happy  now, — happy  in  a 
good  home,  in  loving  friends,  in  noble  work." 

The  Doctor's  letter  made  Lois  very  bright  and  joyful. 
Milcie  accused  her  of  having  a  love-letter;  but  she  ex 
plained  that  it  was  from  Dr.  Knapp,  and  Milcie  knew 
quite  well  who  he  was,  for  Lois  had  described  him  as 
a  marvel  of  learning  and  goodness,  and  had  even  gone 
so  far  as  to  confide  the  fact  that  he  was  one  of  her  very 
warmest  friends.  "I  should  like  to  see  that  wonderful 
personage,"  said  Milcie,  as  Lois  joined  the  family  in 
the  sitting-room  after  finishing  her  letter;  "I  wonder  if 
he  'd  seem  as  nice  to  us  as  he  does  to  you,  Lois." 

"  I  'd  like  to  see  him  too,"  said  Lill.  "  Is  he  good- 
looking?  " 

t{  Well,  rather.  He  has  a  kind  expression  on  his  face. 
His  features  are  regular;  he  is  a  little  stout,  and  nervous 
in  his  manner;  and  oh  dear!  he  persists  in  wearing 
• — well,  a  very  bright  shade  of  tan-colored  gloves;  but 
to  those  who  know  him  these  things  are  positively  at 
tractive.  I  'm  sure  I  would  n't  have  them  changed  for 
anything." 

u  Well,"  said  John,  mischievously,  poking  the  fire 
with  his  boot,  "  you  'd  see  a  very  eccentric  old  doctor, 
my  friends,  wofully  fat  and  short-winded,  with  yellow 
gloves  on,  —  nothing  less,  girls, — nothing  less  than  real 
canary-tinted  gloves." 

"  Now,  John,  that 's  too  bad  of  you,"  said  Lois,  really 
shocked  by  his  want  of  respect  for  such  a  person  as  the 
Doctor.  "  They  are  no  such  thing  as  canary-colored 
gloves.  And  he  is  n't  fat  either,  —  just  slightly  stout, 
you  know,  as  good-natured  people  most  always  are; 


LOIS   AT    HOME.  383 

and  as  for  being  eccentric,  it  is  worth  while  being  dif 
ferent  from  other  men  when  that  difference  consists  in 
being  better  than  they  are";  and  Lois  gave  a  pleasant 
little  laugh  as  if  she  had  utterly  vanquished  John. 

"  You  'd  better  not  stay  around  too  long,  John,"  cau 
tioned  Lill.  "  While  you  are  teasing  Lois  the  stage 
will  start  off  without  the  mail." 

John  glanced  at  the  great  slow-voiced  clock  over  the 
mantel,  and  starting  up,  bounded  hurriedly  out  of  the 
room,  putting  his  head  back  through  the  door  before 
shutting  it  just  long  enough  to  say,  "Fat,  Lois,  —  and 
queer,  with  yaller  gloves." 

"  He  has  plenty  of  time  when  the  stage  comes  these 
days,"  said  Lill,  with  a  sigh.  "Absolutely  nobody  but 
the  driver  and  the  expressman  on  this  evening.  That 
fire  was  a  terrible  thing  for  the  mines." 

"Have  they  rebuilt  much  yet?"  asked  Lois. 

"  But  very  little.  Teams  are  busy  hauling  lumber 
from  the  saw-mill  at  Joy's  Gap  for  the  new  hotel.  But 
it  will  be  a  long  time  before  the  town  will  be  rebuilt." 

Lois  read  the  Doctor's  letter  again  that  night  before 
she  went  to  bed,  regardless  of  the  girls'  teasing.  And 
as  she  looked  from  her  window  out  upon  the  night 
blackened  by  the  awful  shadows  of  the  gloomy  woods, 
and  cheered  by  the  pale  glow  from  the  far-off  worlds 
overhead,  old  memories  thronged  back,  and  brought 
her  sad  and  mournful  thoughts  of  the  past,  mingled 
with  others,  sweet  and  tender,  of  that  second  home 
which  she  loved,  and  that  kind  friend  whose  generous 
care  seemed  guarding  her  from  all  evil.  And  so  as  she 
leaned  her  head  far  out  of  tke  window,  under  the  clear, 
trembling  lights  of  heaven,  for  one  moment  she  bowed 


384  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

it  reverently,  and  the  weird  night-winds  bore  away  on 
their  swift  wings,  up  through  the  starry  wastes  of  space, 
a  little  half-uttered  prayer  of  thanksgiving  to  Him 
whose  love  is  over  all. 

Next  day,  after  Lois  and  the  girls  had  made  the  old 
house  shine  with  neatness,  and  when  the  cold  morning 
freshness  had  given  place  to  the  short  balmy  afternoon, 
Lois  set  out  for  a  long  walk  through  the  rugged  hills. 
John  stopped  her  in  the  porch  to  give  her  a  large  field- 
glass.  "See  here,  Lois,"  he  said.  "The  driver  left  this 
for  you  last  night,  so  you  could  enjoy  the  scenery  better. 
Thoughtful  of  him,  wasn't  it?  You  see  he  has  his  eye 
on  somebody.  He  said  last  night  that  that  blush,  when 
you  got  your  letter,  was  prettier  than  a  rose,  and  that 
he  'd  write  you  a  letter  himself  if  you  'd  only  blush 
again  like  that  when  he  handed  it  down." 

"Nonsense,  John!  Stop  your  foolishness.  Paul 
would  n't  say  that;  he's  a  sensible  man." 

"  1 1rn  not  disputing  it.  I  think  he  shows  remarkably 
good  taste  in  one  particular.  But  he  did  say  it>  I  '11  be 
bound!  There's  a  matrimonial  chance  for  you,  Lois. 
Here,  take  the  glass.  It  will  enable  you  to  watch  for 
the  stage  with  much  better  assurance  of  success." 

Lois,  pleased  with  the  prospect  of  a  good  view,  de 
cided  to  climb  a  rocky  old  peak  towering  high  over  the 
surrounding  hills,  knowing  that  from  its  summit  she 
could  look  for  many  miles  over  the  wild  mountainous 
region,  tinged  with  the  soft,  mellow  glory  of  the  autumn. 

After  a  long  and  toilsome  climb,  she  at  last  reached 
the  rock-crested  top,  too  exhausted  to  think  of  the 
entrancing  wonders  spread  out  below  her,  and  so  she 
sat  down  among  the  sheltering  madronos  to  rest.  The 


LOIS  AT   HOME.  385 

Doctor's  letter  was  in  her  pocket,  and  under  pretence 
of  assuring  herself  of  something  concerning  her  vaca 
tion,  she  allowed  herself  to  look  it  over  again.  Of 
course,  in  such  a  long,  friendly  letter  the  dry  business 
subjects  would  have  to  be  left  until  the  interesting 
news  was  exhausted.  And  so  the  letter  was  read  once 
more.  Lois  put  it  in  her  pocket  again  with  a  happy 
sigh,  and  taking  up  her  field-glass,  looked  far  away  on 
to  the  distant  mountain-sides,  and  into  the  deep,  narrow 
valleys.  "  Dr.  Knapp  would  love  to  see  these  wondrous 
Sierra  beauties,"  she  thought.  "That  great  chain  of 
snowy  pinnacles  rising  above  the  purple  mountain  folds, 
and  the  nearer  pine  belt,  dark  and  richly  green,  covering 
all  the  great  foothill  region,  would  seem  as  grand  to 
him  as  it  does  to  me."  Then  she  looked  at  the  stage 
road,  winding  its  red  course  over  the  hills,  till  away 
in  the  distance  it  turned  to  a  mere  trail,  where  it  de 
scended  a  great  range  of  hills  to  the  river  ferry. 

The  slow,  flat  boat  had  just  left  the  farther  shore, 
and  was  drifting  across  the  stream's  rapid  current. 
Lois  could  see  that  there  was  some  vehicle  crossing  to 
take  the  road  into  the  higher  country,  and  that  the 
boat  was  not  going  across  to  get  passengers;  but  her 
glass  somehow  became  unsteady  in  her  hands  while 
she  looked,  and  she  could  not  quite  make  out  what  it 
was.  She  wiped  it  hastily  with  her  handkerchief,  and 
placing  it  firmly  before  her  eyes,  looked  again,  and  lo! 
—  strange,  unaccountable  sight! — there  on  the  open 
ferry-boat  was  Lady  Snowdrop,  hitched  to  the  high- 
wheeled  gig,  her  delicate  nose  over  the  railing,  and 
some  one  very  like  the  Doctor  holding  her  bridle.  The 
glass  dropped  from  Lois's  hands.  Oh  dear!  the  gig! 


386  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

the  gig  again!  "she  cried  aloud,  startling  the  timid 
lizards  among  the  rocks,  and  causing  a  momentary 
rustle  among  the  glossy  madrono  leaves  overhead,— 
"  a  ghostly  vision  of  it  haunting  me  even  here  in  this 
far-away  mountain  country.  Oh  dear!  what  shall  I  do! 
what  shall  I  do!" 

Was  that  little  shiny-wheeled  cart  supreme  over  her 
destiny,  that  it  should  always  appear  simultaneously 
with  the  thought  of  it?  Lois  wonderingly  asked  her 
self  if  it  was  not  because  she  thought  of  it  too  often, 
and  if  it  appeared  at  all,  she  would  surely  be  thinking 
of  it. 

But  she  could  not  refrain  from  looking  through  the 
glass  once  more,  though  scarcely  expecting  to  see  the 
mysterious  gig.  No;  not  a  sign  of  it  was  visible.  There 
was  the  narrow,  sand-colored  road  leading  up  from  the 
ferry,  gradually  melting  into  the  rich,  red  soil  as  it 
ascended  the  hills;  yes,  and  surely  there  was  the  ferry 
boat  on  its  way  back  across  the  river,  the  ferry-man 
standing  near  the  forward  part  alone,  looking  up  the 
curving  stream,  but  no  trace  of  the  gig,  or  Lady  Snow 
drop,  or  the  Doctor.  Lois  suddenly  became  aware  of 
the  fact  that  she  was  trembling.  "  Such  an  apparition 
as  that!  no  wonder  I  am  nervous!  I'll  look  down 
toward  home  to  see  what  they  are  doing  around  the 
house;  perhaps  that  will  help  me  to  forget  it."  But 
home  soon  lost  its  charm,  while  the  glass  was  gradu 
ally  turned  toward  the  far-off  stage  road  on  the  hills, 
and  Lois  was  looking  again  for  the  great  phantom. 
Yes;  there  it  was  again,  —  again!  the  gig,  as  natural  as 
life!  It  was  coming  up  the  long  hill  above  the  river* 
and  had  reached  a  point  where  she  could  view  it  dis- 


LOIS   AT   HOME.  387 

tinctly.  There  was  the  Doctor,  half  reclining  on  the 
broad  seat,  looking  out  on  one  side  toward  the  velvety 
chemisal-clothed  hills  that  rose  from  the  river-bed;  the 
reins  sagged  low  in  his  listless  hold,  and  Lois  almost 
thought  she  heard  him  whistling  softly  when  the  wind 
stirred  in  the  pines  around  her.  "  It  looks  as  if  they 
stopped  to  rest  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  the  horrible 
phantoms!"  she  said,  watching  with  tireless  earnest 
ness  the  objects  which  she  could  not  possibly  persuade 
herself  were  real. 

On  up  the  grade  'they  slowly  travelled,  sometimes 
scarcely  seeming  to  move,  until  the  Doctor's  ghost 
roused  itself  from  its  reverie  to  urge  the  ghost  of  Lady 
Snowdrop  into  greater  speed.  Often  they  stopped. 
And  Lois  could  see  that  the  wheels  of  the  gig  were 
always  turned  across  the  road,  and  Lady  Snowdrop 
headed  toward  the  graded  cliff,  so  that  she  did  not 
have  to  hold  the  weight  of  the  gig  while  she  rested. 
"Just  like  her,  the  lazy  animal!''  Lois  exclaimed, — 
"just  as  she  would  be'  sure  to  do  on  a  long  hill  like 
that!  I  wonder  if  it  cannot  be  some  phenomenon,  —  I 
wonder  if  it  is  not  a  mirage,  or  something  like  that!  " 
Vainly  she  tried  to  detect  some  indistinct  shadowy 
contour  that  would  confirm  her  suspicion;  but  the 
phantom  vehicle  still  crept  slowly  up  the  hill,  and  she 
watched  it  long  and  intently,  until  it  nearly  reached 
the  top  without  a  sign  of  approaching  dissolution. 
Then  she  thought  of  looking  into  the  sky  above  it  for 
an  inverted  picture  of  the  wonderful  thing,  but  still  in 
vain;  not  even  the  faintest  shadow  rested  on  the  soft 
broken  clouds,  nor  any  vague,  faded  outline  on  the  filmy 
mists  through  which  the  blue  of  heaven  shone. 


388  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

But  when  she  fixed  the  glass  on  the  world  below,  and 
found  the  exact  spot  where  the  stage  road  wound  its 
bright  course  along,  no  trace  of  the  gig  climbing  the 
hill  was  there  either.  "  Oh,  mercy!  It  is  gone  again!  " 
cried  Lois,  covering  her  eyes  with  both  her  hands;  "  he 
could  not  possibly  have  reached  the  top  at  the  rate  he 
was  going;  he  could  not  have  reached  it  anyway,  even 
if  he  hurried.  It  is  surely  a  delusion  that  melted  away 
when  I  was  looking  at  the  sky." 

The  short  afternoon  was  growing  late,  and  already 
the  sun  was  casting  long,  deep  shadows  into  the  wooded 
valleys,  and  shining  redly  faint  on  the  hilltops.  Lois 
looked  at  her  watch.  She  had  but  a  little  while  to 
stay,  before  it  would  be  necessary  to  turn  her  stops 
homeward;  but  still  she  sat  and  anxiously  watched  the 
next  spot  where  the  road  appeared  in  sight;  she  must 
surely  satisfy  herself  that  what  she  had  seen  was  really 
some  awful  vision  of  the  gig,  more  unaccountable  and 
wonderful  than  her  dreams  of  it.  Hopelessly  she  can 
vassed  the  possibilities  of  the  phantom's  reality.  The 
Doctor  could  not  come  from  Mrs.  Mills,  or  any  of  the 
family,  nor  yet  from  any  of  her  other  friends  in  Locust- 
ville.  They  would  not  send  the  Doctor,  —  0  no!  How 
utterly  absurd  that  would  be!  He  would  have  nothing 
to  come  for  himself.  No,  surely  nothing.  The  Doctor 
would  certainly  be  the  last  one  in  the  world  to  do  that. 
No  matter  how  much  he  desired  to  see  her,  nor  how 
necessary  it  might  be,  he  would  be  too  sensitive,  too 
modest,  to  do  such  a  bold  thing  in  defiance  of  a  gossip 
ing  village.  George  ?  No,  not  even  for  him.  The 
Doctor  would  not  undertake  such  a  journey  himself, 
even  for  George's  sake.  Why  would  it  be  necessary  ? 


LOIS  AT   HOME.  389 

If  they  wanted  her,  why  not  send  a  message?  If  there 
was  any  secret  for  her,  why  such  unexplainable  haste 
in  revealing  it?  O  no;  certainly  the  gig  could  not  be 
real.  It  was  another  delusion  —  a  waking  dream  —  of 
that  strange  thing  which  seemed  forever  haunting  her. 

Long  she  sat  and  watched  the  road  until  all  possi 
bility  of  seeing  the  phantom  again  was  gone.  Higher 
and  higher  crept  the  shadows  on  the  sun-tipped  hills, 
and  down  in  the  valleys  the  evening  mists  gathered, 
and  the  forests  seemed  folding  themselves  in  the  dusky 
wings  of  night,  till  at  last  the  glass  fell  from  Lois's 
tired  hands,  when  the  far-off  hills  and  the  winding 
road  she  watched  grew  faint  and  glimmered  in  the 
waning  light. 

Lois  hurried  away  from  her  rock-built  watch-tower 
on  the  hill-crest,  with  one  parting  look  at  the  cold,  gray 
crags,  and  the  plumy  mosses  spread  like  curtains  of 
emerald  plush  upon  them,  wondering  half  frightened 
what  strange  spell  nightfall  would  bring  to  that  en 
chanted  spot.  Down  the  precipitous  trail  she  hurried, 
around  jutting  rocks,  and  through  thick  masses  of 
underbrush,  and  tall,  majestic  groves  of  lonesome  trees. 
"  What  will  they  think  at  home?  "she  asked  herself. 
"  It  is  so  unusually  late  to  be  returning  from  my 
walk.  The  whole  household  will  be  out  straining 
their  eyes  for  a  glimpse  of  me,  and  wondering  which 
way  to  look";  arid  she  shuddered,  when  a  long-winged 
bird  flew  swiftly  and  noiselessly  over  her  head,  and 
seemed  to  make  the  chill  air  even  colder  than  before. 

Down  in  the  vale  at  the  foot  of  the  peak  grew  a 
dense  wood,  fringing  the  sides  of  the  caiion  which 
crossed  the  road  just  below  her  home.  She  dreaded  to 


390  AKOUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

enter  it,  the  shadows  were  BO  thick  there,  and  the  way 
seemed  so  long,  winding  in  an  almost  endless  labyrinth 
among  the  rocks  and  trees  and  bushes.  Some  old  strag 
gler  from  the  road  might  "  turn  in  "  there  for  the  night, 
it  was  so  sheltered  and  so  convenient  to  the  highway; 
and  again,  —  she  was  ashamed  to  confess  it  even  to 
herself,  —  might  not  the  awful  apparition  assume  some 
strange,  new  form,  and  confront  her  there  in  the  gather 
ing  night?  Still  she  must  go,  the  sooner  the  better; 
for  the  sun  had  already  set  behind  the  purple  ranges, 
and  the  twilight  would  soon  fade.  She  resolved  to  be 
blind  and  deaf,  to  know  no  object  except  to  reach  the 
open  road;  and  so  summoning  all  her  courage,  she 
plunged  into  the  wood.  The  fallen  leaves  rustled  with 
weird  sounds  as  she  flew  along,  gray  mosses,  like  the 
hoary  beard  of  some  old  jinnee,  brushed  her  face  and 
startled  her,  and  the  network  of  tangled  boughs  above 
let  in  long  white  fingers  of  light  that  seemed  to  clutch 
at  her,  and  writhe  with  strange  contortions  when  she 
eluded  their  grasp. 

At  last  she  was  on  the  edge  of  the  grove,  and  with 
one  breathless  bound  she  gained  the  open  roadside.  A 
red  light  from  the  wintry  sunset  greeted  her,  and  the 
terrible  influence  of  the  dark  wood  was  all  forgotten. 
There  in  the  softening  twilight  across  the  road  was  the 
friendly  old  house,  and  there  also  were  the  girls  on 
the  porch,  watching  for  her  coming.  And  what  else? 
Yes,  unmistakably,  there  was  the  Doctor  and  the  gig, 
and  Lady  Snowdrop  much  travelled-stained  and  crest 
fallen,  close  by  the  long  line  of  hitching-posts.  No 
ghosts  this  time;  they  were  real,  —  made  of  solid  sub 
stance,  that  would  not  melt  away  like  the  airy  fabrics 
of  her  dreams. 


LOIS   AT   HOME.  391 

No  wonder  the  girls  felt  as  if  they  were  being  enter 
tained  by  a  splendid  little  drama  as  they  looked  on. 
Was  it  not  interesting,  indeed,  that  this  stranger, 
Lois's  Dr.  Knapp  without  a  doubt,  should  drive  up  un 
expectedly  at  the  close  of  day,  should  stop  in  front  of 
the  house,  look  up  with  just  that  kindly  face  she  had 
described,  and  say  a  cordial  good  evening  to  them,  and 
then  jump  out  of  his  odd  little  gig,  and  proceed  very 
nervously  to  tie  his  horse,  as  if  in  great  haste,  though 
he  took  time  enough  to  tie  three  horses  as  gentle  and 
drooping  as  Lady  Snowdrop  was  just  then?  Was  it  not 
more  interesting,  still,  to  see  Lois  dash  out  of  the  wood, 
and  catching  sight  of  the  Doctor,  actually  run  toward 
him  with  her  hand  extended  as  if  forgetful  of  every 
thing  else? 

"Oh,  Dr.  Knapp,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  !  "  she  said 
warmly.  "  Is  it  really  you,  any  way,  up  here  in  this 
out-of-the-way  country?" 

The  Doctor  shook  hands  cordially.  "  Really  me,  Miss 
Warren.  No  doubt  of  it,  —  no  doubt  of  it;  though  I 
cannot  explain  just  how  I  came  to  be  here  quite  yet. 
It  might  be  a  long  story,  you  see.  And  how  have  you 
been  since  I  saw  you  last.  Very  well?  Ah!  I  can  see 
that;  no  need  to  inquire,  —  no  need  to  ask,  —  for  I  can 
see  that." 

"  I  could  hardly  believe  my  senses  when  I  saw  you 
coming,  though  Lady  Snowdrop  and  the  little  gig  are 
almost  unmistakable.  I  am  sure  this  is  a  pleasant 
surprise  — "  Lois  began,  but  the  Doctor  interrupted 
her. 

"Yes,  Lady  Snowdrop  is  quite  unmistakable,"  he  re 
plied  with  a  laugh,  scarcely  thinking  of  what  he  said, 


392  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

he  was  wondering  so  intently  whether  it  was  the  rosy 
reflection  from  the  sunset  or  a  fine  blush  that  made 
Lois's  face  so  radiant  and  bright.  "We  've  had  quite  a 
jaunt,  Miss  Warren;  and  we  really  succeeded  in  beat 
ing  the  stage  by  almost  an  hour,"  he  added,  taking  out 
his  watch,  and  dropping  one  of  his  yellow  gloves  in  his 
hurry.  "We  went  at  rather  lively  gait,  you  see,  through 
the  hollows,  resting  on  the  longest  hills.  Lady  Snow 
drop  is  very  much  abused  with  mountain  roads.  They 
are  not  much  like  those  at  Locustville,  are  they?  And 
then  she  could  n't  know,  as  I  did,  that  night  would 
bring  her  to  such  a  grand  old  homelike  place  as  this, 
and  such  a  pleasant  little  friend  as  you." 

No  need  now  to  wonder  about  the  rich  reflection  from 
the  red  glories  in  the  west,  for  Lois  stood  with  her  back 
to  the  sunset,  her  face  still  glowing  with  bright  tints  of 
the  rose,  and  both  the  yellow  gloves  at  her  feet. 


THE   CONFESSION.  393 

CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

THE   CONFESSION. 

Wakes  the  bitter  memory 

Of  what  he  was,  what  is,  and  what  must  be. 

MILTON. 

LET  us  look  back  over  the  preceding  week,  and  re 
view  the  causes  which  brought  about  the  Doctor's  visit 
to  the  mountains.  The  days  that  followed  George's 
story  of  his  early  love  brought  peace  and  even  com 
fort  to  the  Doctor's  mind.  Somehow,  the  recitation  of 
those  by-gone  events,  tinged  with  the  rosy  hues  of  youth 
and  hope,  held  as  deep  a  magic  for  the  Doctor  as  for 
even  Lois  herself.  They  were  a  part  of  her  own  pure, 
bright  life;  and  since  they  were  dear  and  sacred  to  her, 
they  were  also  dear  and  sacred  to  him.  And  with  her 
he  shared  the  pain  that  came  when  she  knew  beyond 
refutation  that  her  love  had  been  in  vaisi,  only  with  his 
clear,  unerring  foresight  he  realized  that  perhaps  it  was 
best  for  Lois  in  the  end.  When  that  old,  sweet  love  she 
had  cherished  so  reverently  must  perish  as  a  worthless 
thing,  would  not  her  heart  long  for  something  that  was 
earnest  and  noble  with  which  to  fill  the  vacant  place? 
Would  it  not  lead  her  to  look  with  stronger,  brighter 
hope  into  her  future,  and  feel  that  it  held  something 
better  than  the  holy  memories  of  a  vanished  love? 
There  was  no  tinge  of  selfishness  in  the  thought.  He 
felt  that  hope  for  him  was  dead;  but  he  was  so  anxious 


394  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP, 

for  her  -welfare  and  happiness  that  he  would  gladly 
bear  the  Bting  which  the  reflection  brought,  if  he  could 
only  know  that  the  lovely  dawning  of  her  life,  which 
held  such  a  charm  for  him,  would  round  out  into  a 
glorious,  perfected  womanhood. 

If  the  Doctor  had  been  a  younger  man,  perchance 
the  contemplation  of  that  first  strong  love  which  had 
entered  Lois's  life  might  have  brought  a  pang  of  jeal 
ousy;  but  to  him  whose  vision  had  been  clarified  by 
time  and  pain,  it  only  called  forth  a  generous  sym 
pathy.  And  yet  perhaps  he  sometimes  felt  a  touch  of 
indignation,  that  one  to  whom  had  been  given  such  per 
fect,  trustful  love  had  not  held  it  forever  as  the  crown 
and  jewel  of  his  life;  had  not  braved  any  and  all  dan 
gers  for  its  sake;  and  had  only  given  it  up  when  death 
robbed  him  of  all  his  earthly  treasures.  There  is  some 
thing  sad  and  painful  in  the  thought  that  often  what 
we  hold  most  dear  lies  just  beyond  our  reach,  where 
its  most  precious  worth  is  squandered  by  irreverent 
hands.  And  yet  there  is  a  wise  Providence  that  appoints 
all  our  pained  steps  through  life's  cheerless  deserts,  and 
in  the  end  all  afflictions  appear  just  and  for  the  best. 

The  Doctor  felt  this,  and  it  gave  him  comfort  that 
came  without  a  spice  of  selfish  sorrow.  Though  he  had 
nothing  to  hope  for,  he  felt  that  Lois's  life  would  in 
some  way  be  better  for  that  early  grief;  and  so  he  could 
look  upon  these  distressing  events  with  a  far-seeing 
magnanimity,  feeling  that  they  soon  would  pass  away, 
and  time  would  usher  in  for  her  a  season  that  would 
seem  the  sweeter  for  past  adversities. 

As  the  week  wore  on,  the  Doctor  saw  that  George  was 
slowly  failing,  and  so  he  made  his  visits  rather  brief, 


THE    CONFESSION.  895 

lest  George,  who  seemed  usually  fond  of  his  company, 
should  overexert  himself  in  their  talks. 

But  one  afternoon,  as  the  Doctor  had  started  for 
home,  in  driving  past  the  hospital  he  happened  to  re 
member  some  trilling  direction  that  he  had  omitted  to 
give  to  one  of  the  nurses,  so  he  tied  Lady  Snowdrop  to 
the  slim  iron  hitching-post  in  front  of  the  great  brick 
building,  and  went  in  to  perform  his  errand.  On  his 
way  out  he  paused  at  the  top  of  the  stairs  to  look  at  his 
watch,  and  finding  that  he  had  a  few  minutes  to  spare, 
thought  he  would  go  a  second  time  to  George's  room. 
Deep  down  in  the  recesses  of  his  heart  he  felt  that  he 
was  doing  it  for  Lois's  sake;  he  knew  that  her  sweet, 
forgiving  nature,  when  the  bitterest  pangs  of  her  grief 
were  over,  would  prompt  just  such  unfailing  kindness, 
even  to  one  who  had  wronged  her;  and  so  there  was  a 
certain  pleasure  to  the  Doctor  in  the  feeling  that  he 
could  do  for  Lois  what  she  then  had  not  the  power  to 
do  herself. 

He  builded  better  than  he  knew.  By  that  one  little 
act,  which  he  had  hardly  hoped  could  be  productive 
of  much  good,  he  smoothed  the  way,  not  only  for  the 
happiness  of  others,  but  for  her  whom  he  so  tenderly 
loved  and  longed  to  serve. 

As  he  entered  the  room,  George  was  lying  motion 
less,  as  if  asleep,  but  his  large,  dark  eyes  were  open 
wide,  and  fixed  on  the  bright  rift  of  light  that  stole 
through  the  drawn  curtains  and  touched  his  pallid 
cheek. 

"  Well,  my  boy,"  said  the  Doctor,  cheerfully,  as  he 
went  over  by  the  bedside  and  carefully  adjusted  the 
coverlet,  "how  are  you  now?"  George  brightened,  and 


S96  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

holding  out  his  hand  with  a  pleased  smile,  replied 
that  he  was  feeling  rather  weak,  but  resting  easily. 

"I'm  glad  you  came  in,  Doctor,"  he  added;  "sit 
down  and  stay  with  me  a  while.  I  'm  better,  and  feel 
the  need  of  company  somewhat  now." 

The  Doctor  took  a  seat  near  the  head  of  the  bed,  and 
said  kindly,  "  Keep  up  your  courage,  and  soon  I  trust 
you  will  come  out  as  strong  as  ever." 

"No,"  said  George,  gravely;  "I  think  I  shall  not 
come  out  at  all.  I  'm  stamped  already  with  the  doom 
of  death." 

The  Doctor  knew  it.  He  knew  that  this  final  rous 
ing  was  the  last  kindling  spark  of  the  ember  ere  it  went 
out  into  utter  darkness;  so  he  tried  only  to  cheer  the 
dying  man.  . 

"  0  well,"  George  went  on,  tossing  about  restlessly, 
as  if  ready  to  exhaust  that  last  revival  of  his  strength 
in  the  effort.  "  We  've  all  got  to  go  some  time.  It 's 
pretty  bad  to  have  to  give  up  when  young;  but  I  won't 
complain.  There  is  no  one  to  care  much  except  my 
self,  if  I  do  have  to  yield.  I  'm  alone  in  the  world. 
No  one  has  ever  helped  me,  except  maybe  our  good 
little  friend  Lois,  —  she  did  all  she  could,  but  under 
the  circumstances  that  was  n't  much.  Perhaps  if  some 
one  had,  when  I  most  needed  it,  I  should  not  be  where 
I  am  now."  He  paused  a  iliinute,  and  the  silence  was 
unbroken,  except  by  the  distant  footsteps  falling  softly 
in  the  corridors;  and  then  George  said,  with  a  burst  of 
enthusiasm,  "  I  wish  I  'd  known  you,  Doctor,  before 
this  thing  happened  to  me.  I  think  we  would  have 
been  friends,  and  your  advice  would  have  been  worth 
more  than  perhaps  even  I  now  know,  and  I  realize 


THE   CONFESSION.  397 

only  too  well  that  I  have  paid  the  dearest  price  for  all 
my  follies.  A  certain  glow  comes  over  me — a  kin 
dred  feeling — •  whenever  yon  call  in  to  see  me.  I've 
sometimes  thought  that  you  must  take  an  unusual 
interest  in  me,  Doctor,  for  I  was  never  very  famous  for 
my  friendly  feeling  toward  men,  and  something  must 
have  stirred  me  up  in  this  case." 

"I  do  take  an  interest  in  you,  —  an  unusual  inter 
est,"  replied  the  Doctor;  and  then  slowly,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  on  vacancy,  as  if  his  mind  was  looking  afar  off 
into  the  future,  he  added,  "I  think  you  may  consider 
me  your  friend." 

George's  dark  eyes  blazed  brighter,  and  he  moved 
restlessly,  as  he  put  one  hand  out  from  under  the  bed 
clothes  and  touched  the  Doctor's  sleeve.  uThen  tell 
me,"  he  said  earnestly,  "am  I  really  going  to  die? 
Had  I  better  make  every  preparation  for  death?  Much 
depends  on  it,  and  I  must  know  to-day.  I  have  some 
thing  to  tell.  A  strange  presentiment  came  over  me 
this  morning  after  you  went  away,  and  I  feel  that  I 
have  not  many  more  hours  to  live.  If  you  are  my 
friend,  tell  me  whether  I  am  about  to  die, — whether  I 
shall  live  until  your  next  visit." 

The  Doctor  sat  in  quiet  thought  for  a  moment;  and 
then  shaking  his  head  just  a  trifle  gravely,  he  said,  "  I 
would  advise  you  not  to  put  off  the  thoughts  of  death 
until  too  late.  We  should  always  be  prepared." 

George  did  not  speak  for  some  minutes,  and  when 
the  Doctor  looked  again  toward  the  face  on  the  pillow, 
the  dark  eyes  were  even  brighter  than  before,  and  the 
strange,  unsteady  light  in  them  burned  with  a  new  and 
awful  fire;  his  pale  cheek  was  flushed;  and  the  glossy 


398  AROITND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

dark  curls  above  his  white  forehead  were  dcimp  and 
heavy.  The  Doctor  significantly  noted  all  these.  "Ah," 
he  thought,  "  it  is  very  near.  Night  is  fast  coming,  — 
the  last  gleam  of  the  light,  the  sunset  glow,  and  even 
the  falling  dews,  - — truly  it  is  here." 

"My  friend,"  he  said  aloud,  "take  no  unnecessary 
anxiety.  Let  me  tell  you  what  to  do.  I  am  your  friend, 
—  I  will  be  your  confidant.  Tell  me  what  weighs  upon 
your  mind,  and  it  shall  be  as  safe  as  with  yourself. 
And  if  this  confidence  shall  not  be  needed,  we  will  look 
upon  it  as  if  it  had  never  been  given." 

That  cool,  soothing  hand  on  the  moist  forehead  held 
a  subtile  magic,  for  George  clutched  at  it  convulsively, 
as  If  it  were  his  last  anchorage,  and  turning  with  a 
deep-drawn  sigh  he  said,  "  I  will." 

"  Do  it  calmly,  —  quietly,"  cautioned  the  Doctor. 
"You  are  not  strong;  remember  that." 

The  sufferer  moved  again  upon  his  pillow  and  sighed 
deeply.  "You  promise  me,"  he  said  earnestly,  —  "you 
assure  me  that  you  are  my  friend?  That  my  secret 
shall  never  be  divulged,  except  —  except  to  those  who 
must  know  after  I  am  gone,  and  then  only  with  a  shield 
to  protect  my  friend  ?  " 

"  Be  assured."  said  the  Doctor.     "It  will  be  safe." 

"  Well,"  he  began,  "  I  must  tell  you  first  that  I  re 
ceived  my  burns  when  the  little  mountain  town  of 
Lucky  Streak  went  up  in  fire  and  smoke.  It  was  a 
love  affair  that  began  my  troubles,  —  always  love  affairs 
driving  me  about.  Having  obtained  a  position  as  as- 
sayer  in  those  mountain  mines,  I  met  Miss  Nellie  Min- 
ton  on  my  way  up;  and  when  later  she  discovered  that 
I  had  fallen  desperately  in  love  with  a  beautiful  Miss 


THE    CONFESSION.  399 

Willis  spending  the  season  there,  she  threatened  to  ex 
pose  my  early  misfortunes  in  this  place  to  my  ladylove, 
to  Lois's  people,  who  lived  near,  and  also  to  write  of 
my  whereabouts  to  friends  here,  if  I  did  not  assist  her 
in  her  scheme  to  capture  the  young  manager  of  the 
mine,  —  a  fellow  with  whom  she  had  become  wonder 
fully  infatuated.  It  was  all  effected  in  the  sly  way 
she  had  of  doing  things;  and  knowing  so  well  how  ruin 
ously  she  could  carry  out  her  threats,  I  was  afraid  of 
her.  She  drove  me  from  one  position  to  another,  en 
tangled  me,  watched  me,  harassed  me,  until  I  was 
nearly  distracted.  To  aggravate  matters,  Miss  Willis 
took  a  fancy  to  Nellie's  flame,  and  jealousy  and  rage 
turned  the  red-headed  minx  into  a  perfect  vixen.  All 
her  spite  and  chagrin  she  visited  on  me,  until  I  was 
driven  to  desperation. 

"  The  manager  at  last  got  into  difficulties  with  his 
workmen,  and  they  all  struck  for  a  change  of  manage 
ment  or  different  treatment.  The  superintendent,  feel 
ing  his  dependence,  was  almost  helpless.  Things  went 
on,  however,  and  showed  no  indications  of  a  settlement. 
The  whole  ambition  of  my  life  depended  in  a  great 
measure  on  the  manager's  defeat.  If  he  could  be 
forced  to  leave,  that  slippery-ton gued  Nellie  would 
cease  persecuting  me,  and  my  way  would  be  open 
toward  winning  Miss  Willis,  when  she  learned  that 
Ned  Dennett,  the  manager,  was  a  dishonest  man.  I 
meant  no  great  wrong  to  any  one, — only  to  be  rid  of 
that  big,  strong  fellow  who  was  smart  enough  to  get 
along  well  anywhere  in  his  native  hills.  Miss  Willis 
had  another  admirer,  an  elderly  man,  half-invalid,  who 
travelled  for  his  health.  He  had  been  a  friend  of  the 


400  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

Willis  family-for  many  years,  and  hence  presumed  to 
make  himself  a  suitor  for  Miss  Willis's  hand.  Coming 
to  our  mountain  retreat,  he  settled  down  for  a  month 
or  so,  and  became  insanely  jealous  of  the  manager. 
He  was  jealous  of  me  also,  but  I  let  him  get  hold  of 
a  little  flirtation  I  had  with  a  dashing  Spanish  girl, 
and  that  tended  to  satisfy  him  a  good  deal.  *  It 's  a 
serious  matter,'  he  would  say  to  me,  a  dark  cloud  set 
tling  over  his  thin  face.  'Something  must  be  done'; 
and  then  he  would  talk  wildly  of  using  a  revolver,  and 
paint  the  case  in  the  most  gloomy  aspect.  Driven  to 
recklessness,  we  at  last  decided  to  take  some  action. 
I  depended  greatly  on  this  man  Knowles,  and  yet  I 
dared  not  trust  him.  We  had  to  keep  that  prying 
Nellie  out  of  our  secret,  for  of  course  she  would  suffer 
no  wrong  done  in  the  direction  that  most  interested  us, 
so  there  was  no  alternative.  We  were  compelled  to 
take  the  course  we  at  last  chose,  or  detection  would 
follow,  and  our  scheme  would  fail  to  work.  It  was  our 
object  to  bring  about  a  settlement  of  the  strike,  and 
drive  the  manager  out." 

George  lay  still  for  a  few  minutes,  his  face  expres 
sionless  and  his  eyes  fixed,  as  if  he  lived  again  in  those 
by-gone  scenes.  The  first  of  his  story  had  been  given 
hurriedly  and  disconnectedly,  with  small  attempt  in 
the  brief  outline  to  justify  his  conduct  or  picture  his 
feelings.  But  that  pause  brought  a  great  change  with 
it.  The  dews  began  to  stand  out  in  beads  of  crystal  on 
his  forehead,  and  he  palled  nervously  at  the  bedclothes 
to  shield  himself  from  the  dim  light  that  broke  through 
the  drawn  curtains.  While  the  Doctor  drew  them 
together  more  closely,  he  half  rose  on  his  pillow  and 
looked  wildly  around  the  room. 


THE   CONFESSION.  401 

"It  was  a  windy  night  in  the  late  autumn,  with  a 
cloudy  sky  above  that  threatened  rain,  which  we  chose 
as  the  time  to  carry  out  our  plans,"  he  began,  half 
deliriously,  as  the  Doctor  sat  down  again.  "  I  remem 
ber  distinctly,  though  it  seems  now  as  if  all  these  things 
must  have  happened  years  ago, — how  weird  were  the 
voices  in  the  pines,  how  black  and  ferny  the  huge 
pointed  trees  stood  outlined  against  the  horizon,  and 
how  faint  and  dim  and  ghostly  the  distant  line  of 
snow-peaks  glimmered  under  the  white  lights  of  heaven. 

"  We  went  out  at  midnight,"  he  half  whispered,  after 
a  pause,  —  "  out  into  the  woods  that  grew  near  the  town, 
waiting  quietly  behind  the  rocks  to  see  that  no  breath 
of  life  stirred  near  us.  Oh  the  shadows!  "  he  cried, 
faintly.  "  They  tangled  and  spread  and  deepened  all 
around  us,  though  the  moon  was  hidden  under  dim, 
gray  folds  of  cloud,  until  they  rested  dark  and  heavy 
on  our  brains.  They  have  been  there  ever  since, 
though  we  made  a  light,  —  we  made  a  light," — he 
softly  mused,  and  leaned  back  on  his  pillow  with 
closed  eyes.  "  I  must  tell  the  rest,"  he  said,  at  length, 
rousing  himself  with  an  effort,  "though  it  is  so  hard  to 
call  up  those  terrible  scenes  that  have  passed  before  rue 
in  ghastly  pictures  every  hour  since.  We  never  meant 
to  burn  the  town.  A  match  touched  to  the  dry  grass 
around  a  dead  pine  began  it,  and  we  thought  it  would 
creep  over  toward  the  mill  and  threaten  it  a  little. 
That  was  all  we  meant  to  do.  Then  our  confident 
manager  would  be  irrefutably  proved  an  incendiary; 
for  we  took  care  to  leave  traces  of  his  guilt  where  the 
fire  started.  Everything  had  been  arranged  to  reflect 
on  him;  we  knew  that  he  would  remain  up  part  of  the 


402  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

night  to  see  that  all  things  were  going  well,  and  the 
fact  that  he  was  dressed  and  around  at  such  an  hour 
would  look  suspicious.  Besides,  he  would  have  a 
motive  which  all  would  recognize.  Ah,  what  misery 
that  night  brought!  The  fire,  fanned  by  the  high 
wind  and  fed  by  the  grass  and  trees,  broke  away  from 
our  control,  burning  up  the  slope  instead  of  toward  the 
mill.  Beginning  in  the  dry  branches  of  the  grove 
beside  the  hotel,  it  flew  in  great  sheets  of  flame  through 
the  trees,  while  flying  sparks  from  the  dead  boughs 
kindled  on  the  roof  of  the  building,  and  then  all  was 
lost.  I  shrink  from  the  scene  of  that  night;  I  long  to 
undo  the  mischief  I  committed.  So  let  me  draw  the 
veil  quickly  over  the  burning  town,  over  the  homeless 
hundreds  fighting  through  the  night,  over  spectacles  I 
dare  not  even  mention.  In  that  terrible  hour  despera 
tion  seized  me,  —  a  sense  of  utter  recklessness.  By 
breaking  a  water-pipe  I  saw  a  chance  to  hinder  the 
manager  from  putting  out  the  fire  around  the  mill,  for 
that  would  be  evidence  in  his  favor,  and  since  the  fire 
had  burned  the  great  hotel,  the  issue  became  one  of 
life  or  death  to  Knowlcs  and  me.  I  did  not  leave 
my  opportunity  unimproved.  But  just  when  success 
seemed  about  to  smile  on  my  deed,  I  discovered  that 
our  cause  was  utterly  lost. 

"  The  Spanish  girl  with  whom  I  had  the  little  love 
affair  had  caught  me  lighting  the  fire  in  the  woods. 
It  was  our  quarrel,  I  think,  that  caused  me  to  neglect 
it  until  it  was  beyond  our  control,  and  prevented  me 
from  getting  back  to  the  hotel  in  time  to  rise  in  hastily 
donned  apparel  with  the  others,  when  the  alarm  was 
given.  I  was  trying  to  persuade  the  dark-faced  gypsy 


THE    CONFESSION.  403 

that  it  was  set  by  some  one  else.  But  she  would  not 
believe  it.  She  thought  she  had  me  in  her  power,  and 
vowed  she  would  expose  the  deed.  At  last,  in  despera 
tion,  I  got  her  promise  to  meet  me  at  the  hotel,  where 
I  told  her  I  would  explain  and  prove  the  origin  of  the 
fire,  and  settle  our  misunderstanding  to  her  satisfaction. 
She  was  very  angry,  and  I  realized  that  she  would  be 
hard  to  control.  Thus  we  parted. 

"  When  the  big  hotel  had  burned  until  its  roof  was 
nearly  gone,  and  little  was  left  untouched  by  fire, 
except  the  great  white  front  protected  by  the  winds 
that  blew  the  flames  backward,  she  arose  from  the 
balcony  where  she  had  fallen  suffocated  by  the  smoke, 
and  insanely  angered,  perhaps  because  I  had  not  kept 
our  appointment,  strove  to  divulge  her  awful  secret, 
though  death  stared  her  in  the  face.  She  jumped  to 
the  ground,  but  she  still  lived;  and  then  I  knew  that 
I  must  hasten  to  put  distance  between  me  and  the 
story  she  would  tell,  blackened  by  her  fierce  jealousy 
and  her  bitter  disappointments. 

"  Out  into  the  darkness  of  night  I  hurried,  along  the 
dusty  road  that  led  away  from  the  town.  The  pines 
leaned  over  my  pathway  and  whispered, '  Fiend  !  fiend  ! ' 
the  winds  howled  angrily  around,  and  whipped  the 
long  tangles  of  brush  into  my  face.  But  still  I  pressed 
on,  suffering  agonies  from  my  burns,  and  knowing  not 
whither  I  went.  After  I  had  gone  some  distance,  the 
cloudy  moon  lighted  my  way  over  the  broad  stage  road 
that  led  from  the  mines  through  thick  pine  woods  for 
many  a  mile,  to  a  wayside  house  called  Robinson's. 
I  thought  if  I  could  only  reach  it  and  get  help,  I  might 
escape  before  morning  brought  news  of  my  work.  On 


404  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN    DEEP. 

I  struggled,  often  stumbling  when  the  overhanging 
pines  darkened  the  road  so  I  could  not  see,  often  I  fell 
into  the  thick  dust  that  suffocated  and  blinded  me, 
and  often  I  sought  the  cooling  mud  of  some  wayside 
creek  for  my  smarting  face.  The  bursted  pipe  at 
Lucky  Streak  had  left  me  deluged  with  water,  and  the 
cold  winds  blowing  on  my  damp  clothing  chilled  me 
to  the  marrow.  Oh,  what  a  miserable  night  that  was! 
I  had  to  keep  in  the  grass  by  the  wayside  as  much  as 
I  could,  so  as  to  leave  few  telltale  tracks  in  the  road, 
and  my  own  passage  rustling  along  the  brush  sounded 
to  my  strained  ears  like  the  pursuit  of  fifty  horsemen. 
A  hundred  times  I  looked  back  over  the  moonlit  road 
to  see  who  followed,  but  I  only  saw  its  red  dust  gleam 
ing  pale  in  the  dim  light,  and  the  lonesome  pines 
crowding  in  thick,  black  masses  on  either  side,  swept 
like  grain  stalks  in  the  howling  wind.  A  hundred 
times  I  paused  to  watch  from  some  point  on  the  hill 
side  that  red  glow  in  the  distance,  great  spears  of 
crimson  shooting  upward,  and  one  awful,  billowy  mass 
of  fire  reaching  high  into  the  heaven,  where  the  strong 
wind  caught  it  and  twisted  it  into  a  rope  of  flame  until 
dissolved  in  storms  of  sparks  that  floated  away  and 
perished  against  the  background  of  red-stained  sky. 
Far  around  the  horizon  that  red  reflection  lurked,  and 
cast  a  strange,  unearthly  radiance  down,  even  when  the 
hollows  hid  the  terrible  scene  that  caused  it  from  my 
view.  Still  more  lonely  grew  my  way  as  I  hastened 
on,  farther  and  farther  behind  faded  the  red  glow  of 
the  spreading  fire,  until  at  last  the  woods  shut  around 
me  and  swallowed  the  road  in  their  black,  threatening 
shadow.  Fear  possessed  me  at  last,  and  I  cried  aloud 


THE   CONFESSION.  405 

for  help,  and  vainly  strained  my  eyes  for  the  beacon- 
light  of  a  friendly  lantern  coming  to  my  aid,  or  the 
sign  of  some  isolated  cabin  on  the  rugged  hills.  Still 
in  vain. 

"  I  hurried  till  I  dropped  half  fainting  by  the  way 
side,  and  then  I  shouted  long  and  loud  again  for  help. 
Only  the  faint,  mocking  echoes  and  the  wild  winds  an 
swered  to  my  call.  Shout  after  shout  pierced  through 
the  gorges,  until  I  longed  for  even  foes,  in  my  distress. 
The  white  stumps  changed  to  ghostly  forms  standing 
stark  and  dumb,  and  looking  at  me  with  stony  eyes 
from  the  woods,  the  gray  rocks  turned  to  monsters, 
sluggish  in  their  sleep,  and  the  tinted  clouds  overhead 
seemed  heralding  the  dawning  of  the  judgment-day. 
Weak  and  unable  to  rise,  I  crawled  into  the  dense 
shadow  of  the  pine  grove  by  the  way,  and  laying  my 
face  against  the  cold,  crackling  needles  that  covered 
the  earth,  a  great,  soothing  wave  of  blackness  stole 
slowly  over  my  anguished  mind,  and  I  knew  no  more. 

"  When  I  awoke  the  morning  light  was  beaming 
cold  and  gray,  and  a  gentle  rain  was  falling.  After 
two  or  three  attempts,  I  rose  and  limped  on  pained, 
stiffened  legs  to  the  road  again.  No  sign  of  life  or 
habitation  was  near,  but  all  around  were  the  dense,  un 
cleared  woods,  and  away  across  the  hills,  above  the 
broken  lines  of  slender  pine  points  in  the  east,  burned 
still  a  dull  red  glow  on  the  clouds.  A  sweet,  fresh  scent 
from  the  newly  wet  dust  revived  me,  and  I  managed 
to  creep  along  by  the  roadside  for  quite  a  distance,  un 
til  the  rain  began  to  fall  more  steadily,  and  exhausted 
I  sat  down  among  some  sheltered  rocks,  and  waited. 
Presently,  through  the  soft  beating  of  the  rain  on  the 


406  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

pine  leaves,  and  the  far-off  roar  of  the  wind  in  the 
trees,  came  a  great  rumble  and  clatter  and  hissing,  as 
of  a  team  coming  down  the  rocky,  graded  hill  road. 
Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  sound,  sometimes  growing 
fainter  in  the  bends  of  the  road,  and  then  roaring  out 
again,  until  the  shouts  of  the  driver  to  his  horses 
reached  me,  and  I  tried  to  hide  among  the  rocks.  But 
desperation  drove  me  out  to  the  edge  of  the  road  again, 
where  I  awaited  the  appearance  of  what  seemed  my 
forlorn  hope.  I  scarcely  know  what  happened,  what  I 
said,  what  I  did,  except  that  the  teamster  stopped  and 
asked  me  how  I  had  burned  my  face.  My  month's 
salary  was  in  my  pocket.  I  offered  it  all  to  him  if  he 
would  care  for  me,  and  take  me  secretly  out  of  the 
mountain  regions  to  the  city. 

"He  accepted  the  offer,  whipped  out  his  whiskey- 
flask  for  me,  helped  me  take  off  my  wet  clothing, 
rolled  me  up  in  his  warm  blankets  in  the  bottom  of 
his  empty  wagon,  spread  a  canvas  over  me  to  keep 
away  the  rain,  and  started  on.  Again  I  lost  ir.y  senses, 
and  when  I  awoke  we  were  in  the  lower  foothills,  where 
the  country  was  more  open,  and  the  roads  were  smooth 
and  brown.  We  stopped  at  a  ranch-house  near  the 
road,  and  the  teamster  went  in  for  a  moment,  and 
coming  out  again,  began  unhitching  his  horses.  Then 
a  pretty,  kind-faced  woman  came  out  and  said  he 
might  take  me  in,  and  I  was  carried  into  a  warm, 
clean  room,  and  put  into  a  comfortable  bed,  where  I 
could  rest  and  sleep.  My  face  no  longer  smarted  so 
unbearably,  but  it  was  dressed,  and  I  was  fed  and 
warmed,  and  at  that  place  we  remained  till  the  next 
day.  By  that  time  I  was  able  to  be  moved,  and  we 
started  on  our  way  again. 


THE    CONFESSION.  407 

"Little  I  remember  of  the  journey  except  that 
within  a  few  miles  of  the  railroad  terminus  the  stage 
from  Quartz  Hill,  a  place  above  Lucky  Streak,  passed. 
The  driver  shouted  the  news  to  the  inquiring  team 
ster, —  the  town  had  burned,  the  mine  was  saved,  and 
the  excitement  was  great  throughout  the  country. 
Raising  myself  on  my  elbow,  I  looked  over  the  edge 
of  the  wagon  at  the  crowded  passengers.  A  gleam  of 
Nellie's  red  hair  from  inside  met  my  eye,  and  then 
Mabel's  fair,  rose-stained  cheek  came  before  the  win 
dow  as  they  dashed  ahead.  I  must  not  take  the  city 
train  that  day,  I  told  my  man.  So  he  said  there  was 
only  one  other,  that  for  Tenayee,  and  we  would  have 
to  wait  two  hours.  And  that  is  how  I  came  to  be  here 
in  the  old  hospital." 

He  stopped  in  his  long,  breathless  story,  but  his 
countenance  still  shone,  and  his  eyes  gleamed  with 
the  same  restless  fire.  "  But  let  me  now  make  what 
reparation  I  may,"  he  went  on  again.  "  When  I  am 
dead,  it  will  matter  not  who  gains  the  prize  I  longed  to 
win;  when  I  am  gone," — and  he  sighed  sadly,  —  "  I  can 
never  undo  the  wrongs  that  I  have  wrought.  But,  my 
friend,"  he  said,  and  as  he  leaned  out  to  take  the  Doc 
tor's  hand  the  latter  noticed  how  thin  and  wasted  his 
form  had  grown,  —  "you  are  all  I  have  now.  Out  of 
the  many  whom  I  cared  for,  out  of  all  those  for  whose 
good-will  and  favor  I  sought,  none  are  left  me  now  in 
these  last,  lonely  hours,  —  none  but  you.  Yet  you  are  a 
true  friend,  I  am  sure  of  that,  since  you  do  not  come 
here  as  a  protector  and  a  helper,  for  the  sake  of  old 
times  or  friendship,  only  as  a  sincere  and  charitable 
though  new-found  friend.  And  so  I  give  up  all  I  ever 


408  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

cared  for.  If  I  should  survive  this  suffering,  I  will  be 
gin  life  anew,  with  you  for  my  adviser,  if  you  will  let 
me.  But  I  will  not  speak  of  that  now.  Time  enough 
when  the  shadow  of  death  has  passed. 

"  If  I  should  die,  here  under  my  pillow  in  my  pocket- 
book  you  will  find  letters  written  in  cypher,  and  also 
the  cypher  with  which  to  read  them,  sent  in  different 
envelopes.  They  are  from  Knowles.  My  flight  had 
been  explained  as  the  result  of  my  affair  with  Nita 
Logan;  for  Knowles  made  our  simple  flirtation  appear 
much  more  serious  than  it  really  had  been.  He  learned 
of  my  whereabouts  from  the  teamster  who  helped  me. 
They  tell  the  outcome  of  our  miserable  work;  they  also 
tell  how  safe  and  free  we  are  from  all  blame  or  exposure. 
Take  them,  and  restore  what  you  can.  I  saved  them, 
thinking  perhaps  I  should  at  the  last  wish  to  put  them 
to  such  use.  The  sum  laid  away  for  the  future  is  for 
Nita's  father  and  her  husband,  if  they  will  take  it. 
Perhaps  it  will  be  best  not  to  let  them  know  where  it 
came  from,  though  I  would  like  to  make  this  slight  rep 
aration  for  having  cast  a  cloud  over  Nita's  fair  name. 

"  That  is  all,  I  guess,  Doctor.  Do  you  think  you 
understand  it  clearly  now?  If  I  should  live,  I  shall 
make  amends  myself,  with  your  help  and  advice;  if 
not,  the  letters  are  yours.  Only  spare  Knowles.  Let 
the  blame  rest  on  me,  for  I  shall  be  beyond  their  power, 
while  he  is  not,  and  so  I  must  leave  it  with  his  own 
conscience." 

A  silence  fell,  after  the  Doctor  had  promised  again, 
and  reigned  long  unbroken.  The  great  clock  out  in 
the  corridor  ticked  slowly,  regularly,  and  sent  the 
faint  sound  of  its  vibrations  in  through  the  half-open 


THE   CONFESSION.  409 

door.  The  light  of  the  late  afternoon  stole  through  the 
curtains,  and  made  a  soft,  restful  twilight  in  the  little 
room;  while  the  fitful  winds  outside  tossed  back  and 
forth  the  tops  of  the  locust  and  the  poplar  trees,  just 
below  the  window,  until  now  and  then  a  spray  of  dying 
leaves  shattered  itself  against  the  clear  glass. 

"  I  was  mistaken,"  thought  Dr.  Knapp,  as  he  looked 
at  George's  peaceful  face  resting  on  the  pillow.  "  His 
story  was  long,  and  required  an  effort  in  the  telling. 
He  was  much  stronger  than  I  thought."  Rising  he 
laid  his  hand  on  George's  forehead.  "  Can  you  sleep 
now?"  he  asked,  glancing  at  his  watch. 

"  Oh  no!  don't  leave  me,  Doctor,"  pleaded  George; 
"I  must  have  some  one  now  to  stay  with  me;  I  am 
afraid  to  be  alone,  for  I  think  the  end  is  near." 

So  the  Doctor  tried  to  make  the  poor  sufferer  as  com 
fortable  as  possible,  and  resuming  his  seat,  took  both 
the  white,  wasted  hands  above  the  coverlet  in  his  own, 
and  talked  long  and  earnestly. 

The  twilight  faded  and  the  lights  came  in.  Soft  foot 
steps  passed  sometimes  along  the  hall,  and  once  or  twice 
a  kind  face  looked  in  at  the  door;  but  the  Doctor  only 
gave  directions  for  Lady  Snowdrop's  comfort,  and  still 
sat  beside  the  little  white  bed  where  the  dark-eyed 
stranger  lay.  Just  through  the  open  door  he  could 
look  out  into  the  dim  corridor,  with  its  light  falling 
from  the  Jow  clusters  of  lamps  on  the  smooth,  bright 
carpet,  and  shining  beyond  its  borders  on  the  waxed 
floor.  George  seemed  to  be  looking  at  it  too,  for  his 
eyes  gazed  steadily  before  him,  but  at  last  he  glanced 
up  into  the  Doctor's  face.  "  I  should  like  to  look  out," 
he  said,  in  a  hoarse,  unnatural  voice.  "  I  'd  like  to  see 
the  old  place  again.  Do  you  think  it  is  too  late?  " 


410  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

"O  no;  I'll  lift  you  up  if  you  like, — if  you  wish"; 
and  the  strong  arms  of  the  Doctor  bore  the  wasted  form 
over  by  the  window,  and  parted  the  thick  curtains. 
Twilight  still  lingered,  but  the  evening  lamps  were 
lighted  in  the  quiet  streets.  George  sighed  as  he 
looked  up  and  down,  as  if  each  feature  of  the  scene 
recalled  a  thought  of  the  past.  His  face  was  pale,  and 
seemed  each  moment  growing  whiter,  so  the  Doctor  car 
ried  him  back  and  laid  him  on  the  bed  again. 

"Ask  Lois  to  forgive  me,"  said  George,  sadly.  "  Say 
I  remember  her  as  the  sweetest  friend  I  ever  knew. 
And  when  I  am  dead,  let  me  be  laid  to  sleep  in  the  lit 
tle  cemetery  in  Locustville,  and  perhaps  sometimes  when 
she  looks  out  of  the  windows  of  the  red  school-house  on 
the  hill,  she  will  see  the  lonely  graves  in  shadow  of  the 
stately  church-steeple,  and  will  stop  to  feel  a  thrill  of 
her  old  tenderness  for  one  wayward  heart  that  moulders 
there." 

Then  followed  a  long,  peaceful  silence.  The  hours 
wore  on,  and  George  scarcely  spoke  or  stirred,  but  his 
breath  grew  shorter,  and  his  eyes  more  dark  and  bright. 
The  subdued  sounds  out  in  the  corridor  grew  less  fre 
quent,  and  finally  ceased,  save  a  faint  rustle  from  some 
lonely  watcher  moving  softly  in  the  sleeping  wards. 
Then  suddenly  George  roused  from  his  stupor,  and 
held  out  his  hand  to  the  Doctor  again.  "  You  are  my 
friend;  stay  with  me,"  he  said.  "I'm  afraid.  I'm 
afraid  to  go  alone  without  a  friend." 

"  You  have  a  Friend  who  goes  with  you  everywhere," 
said  the  Doctor,  kindly.  "  He  is  with  you  in  the  last 
hours.  Trust  in  Him,  my  son;  believe  in  Him,  and  He 
will  save  you." 


THE   CONFESSION.  411 

"Do  you  think  you  can  pray  for  me?  I  will  trust 
then,"  said  George,  faintly.  Reverently  the  Doctor's 
head  was  bowed,  and  the  light  above  fell  softly  over 
its  gray-brown  waves,  and  over  the  black  glossy  curls 
on  the  pillow.  Then  the  oppressive  stillness  was  broken 
by  a  deep,  low  voice,  bearing  on  its  rich,  steady  tones 
a  petition  for  mercy  and  forgiveness  to  the  throne  of 
grace.  It  brought  strength  and  reconcilement,  and 
at  last  peace;  for  when  the  Doctor  raised  his  head, 
the  spirit  had  flown. 

Tenderly  he  straightened  out  the  wasted  limbs,  turned 
the  still  form  on  its  side  to  hide  the  scars,  and  brushed 
the  damp  hair  from  the  pale  forehead.  The  face  had 
lost  all  its  wild  unrest,  and  looked  smiling  and  repose 
ful,  even  boyish,  in  its  stillness;  and  when  a  spray  of 
late  roses  Nettie  Hunman  had  laid  above  his  pillow 
that  day  broke  to  pieces  from  some  light  brush,  and 
let  a  few  petals  fall  upon  his  head,  the  Doctor  could 
not  refrain  from  repeating  softly  to  himself  some  little 
verses  that  came  to  his  mind. 

The  rose's  dainty  branches  just  above  him 

Shed  creamy  petals  o'er  his  glossy  hair, 
As  if  the  fragrant  flowers  still  could  love  him 

Though  false  and  cruel,  yet  so  young  and  fair. 

Death's  pale,  sweet  angel  cannot  yet  subdue  him, 

For  lingers  still  a  flush  upon  his  cheek, 
As  if  the  uncurbed  passions  that  o'erthrew  him 

Would  from  that  silence  in  mute  language  speak,  — 

Would  drive  away  the  peace  of  death's  cold  finger 
That  steals  so  slowly  o'er  his  dreaming  face, 

And  in  defiance  of  that  touch  still  linger, 
In  death  as  well  as  life  to  lend  their  grace. 


412  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

This  man  who  lay  before  him,  cut  down  in  the  bloom 
of  his  manhood,  had  fallen  a  victim  to  his  own  sins. 
And  yet  he  had  now  atoned  for  all  his  guilt,  and  had 
left  no  room  for  aught  but  charitable  thoughts.  The 
Doctor  looked  reverently  down  upon  the  still  form.  He 
had  been  Lois's  love.  In  those  dark  curls  of  hair,  that 
handsome  face,  that  calm,  white  brow,  she  had  read  a 
character  replete  with  every  manly  attribute;  she  had 
trusted  all  her  girlish  faith  and  hope  to  him,  and  trusted 
to  the  last. 

Fortune  had  bestowed  many  goodly  gifts  upon  him. 
He  had  been  talented,  strong,  able.  There  had  been  a 
grace  and  a  magnetism  about  him  that  could  win  him 
scores  of  friends;  there  had  been  a  refinement,  a  poeti 
cal  vein,  in  his  nature,  which  if  blended  with  sincerity 
and  upright  purpose  might  have  made  his  life  magnifi 
cent  in  its  grand  achievement.  Ah,  what  a  pity  those 
redeeming  qualities  had  been  squandered  to  satisfy  a 
grasping,  foolish  vanity! 

The  Doctor  sighed.  Ah  well!  for  Lois  there  might 
be  something  even  better,  something  more  glorious, 
than  the  blossoming  of  her  first,  sweet  love.  It  must 
be  all  for  the  best. 

And  so  he  went  softly  away,  told  the  watchers  that 
death  had  passed,  and  then  descended  the  broad  stair 
way.  He  opened  the  wide  hall  door,  and  stopped  for 
a  breath  of  the  damp  freshness  of  the  night  air  that 
rushed  in. 

The  memory  of  Lois  was  inseparably  associated  with 
the  mournful  peace  of  that  quiet  place,  and  to-night 
it  came  back  to  him  with  a  dull  heartache,  that  still 
touched  a  minor  chord  of  sweetness  and  longing  in  his 


THE   CONFESSION.  413 

lonely  breast.  How  often  he  had  stood  there  with  her 
and  watched  the  light  that  broke  in  suddenly  upon  her 
fair  face,  her  pleasant  blue  eyes,  her  soft,  wavy  brown 
hair!  And  now!  This  night  she  would  not  wear  a 
pleasant  face  were  she  there  to  know.  "  And  yet 
why  linger  with  these  mournful  scenes?"  he  thought. 
"  George,  his  life,  his  work,  are  things  of  the  past;  all 
is  finished,  and  from  this  moment  will  forever  be  drift 
ing  farther  and  farther  away  on  the  receding  shores  of 
time."  And  as  he  went  out  into  the  cool,  night  air,  lo! 
all  the  sky  was  thick  with  midnight  stars. 


414  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

CHAPTER    XXIX. 

THE   DRIVE   UP   THE   LEAFY   GRADE. 

Trne  love 's  the  gift  which  God  has  given 
To  man  alone  beneath  the  heaven; 
It  is  not  fantasy's  hot  fire, 

Whose  \vishes,  soon  as  granted,  fly; 
It  liveth  not  in  fierce  desire, 

With  dead  desire  it  doth  not  die; 
It  is  the  secret  sympathy, 
The  silver  link,  the  silken  tie, 
Which  heart  to  heart,  and  mind  to  mind, 
In  body  and  in  soul  can  bind. 

SCOTT. 

NIGHT  had  come,  one  of  those  clear,  cold  nights  when 
a  dense  blackness  shuts  around,  when  the  winds  are 
stilled,  and  all  nature  seems  to  hide  herself  for  repose. 
Around  the  tall  wayside  house  at  Robinson's  all  sounds 
were  hushed,  save  now  and  then  a  distant  call  from  the 
sleepy  calves  in  the  barn-yard,  or  a  rattle  of  the  watch 
dog's  chain.  In-doors,  lights  warm  and  brilliant  glowed 
from  the  windows,  and  sent  steady  beams  far  out  into 
the  darkness,  as  if  that  pleasant  home  was  overflowing 
with  good  cheer,  and  willingly  parted  with  some  of  its 
brightness  for  the  sake  of  lonely  travellers  out  on  the 
night-shadowed  hills.  In  the  pleasant  parlor  a  glorious 
fire  snapped  and  roared,  sending  its  rich,  yellow  blaze 
from  the  pine  logs  high  up  the  chimney,  and  picturing 
itself  in  playful  sparkles  on  the  liquid  deeps  of  the 
window-glass.  The  room  was  large  and  square,  filled 


THE   DRIVE   UP   THE   LEAFY   GRADE.  415 

with  plain,  old-fashioned  furniture,  that  still  served  to 
make  it  very  attractive  and  homelike.  On  the  front, 
long  French  windows  in  groups  of  three  almost  covered 
one  side  of  the  room,  with  just  space  enough  between 
the  full  curtains  for  a  tall,  gilt-framed  mirror,  which 
reflected  in  its  clear  depths  the  flashing  sheets  of  fire 
from  the  hearth-stone  opposite;  while  on  the  eastern 
side  another  group  of  windows  opened  out  into  a  wide, 
latticed  court,  where  of  summer  evenings  the  men  often 
sat  and  enjoyed  a  smoke  in  the  balmy  air.  All  around 
the  room  were  evidences  of  the  wonders  of  nature  in  the 
mountains,  —  queer  fossils,  glittering  stallactites,  knots 
of  moss  like  dainty  lace-work,  polished  antlers,  and 
rich-hued  birds,  stuffed  with  such  care  and  art  that 
they  looked  as  if  alive,  peering  down,  with  bright,  dark 
eyes,  from  their  perches  in  the  corners,  whenever  the 
firelight  flashed  forth  its  lurid  glories. 

Lois  and  the  Doctor  sat  alone  in  the  quaint,  old 
room.  Now  and  then  from  the  distant  kitchen  a  clat 
ter  of  dishes  or  a  ring  of  spoons  came  faintly  to  them, 
and  sometimes  a  low  hum  of  conversation  or  a  sup 
pressed  laugh.  Dinner  was  over,  and  the  girls  were 
finishing  their  work,  while  Lois  listened  to  the  Doctor's 
story  of  George's  confession  and  death,  in  the  fitful  fire 
light.  To  one  so  full  of  gentle  sympathy,  of  modest 
shrinking,  as  the  Doctor,  the  task  was  by  no  means  an 
easy  one.  How  could  he  know  that,  despite  the  pain 
Lois  must  have  suffered  in  learning  how  cruelly  George 
had  deceived  her,  there  was  not  still  some  lingering 
hope  which  he  must  crush  by  that  story  he  had  to  tell? 
How  could  he  approach  a  subject,  when  even  his  mere 
knowledge  of  it  might  cause  her  pain? 


416  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

It  was  well  that  the  pine  knots  on  the  hearth  some 
times  sputtered,  and  the  bright  light  died  down  to  a 
smouldering  blaze  half  curtained  in  pitchy  clouds  of 
smoke,  for  the  Doctor's  face  had  spells  of  growing 
redder  than  even  the  warm  fireside  could  make  it,  and 
his  nervous  hands  twisted  unconsciously  the  soft  silk 
handkerchief  with  which  he  often  wiped  his  face. 

He  began  by  telling  Lois  of  George's  death,  intending 
to  pass  over  it  quickly,  and  to  spare  her  feelings  with 
out  revealing  the  fact  that  he  knew  her  secret;  but  Lois 
stopped  him  often  to  ask  questions,  and  finally  began 
to  tell  him  something  of  her  story.  She  explained 
to  him  frankly,  though  in  few  words,  that  George  had 
once  been  a  very  dear  friend  of  hers,  going  through  it 
all  calmly,  without  any  girlish  blushes  or  hesitation,  as 
if  those  old  feelings  had  left  no  power  to  move  her  now. 
But  when  she  came  to  relate  the  last  sorrowful  inci 
dents,  she  paused.  It  was  almost  painful  to  tell  the 
Doctor  how  cruelly  she  had  been  deceived.  There  was 
no  need,  however,  to  tell  more,  for  he  touched  her  arm 
as  tenderly  and  caressingly  as  if  she  had  been  a  little 
child,  and  told  her  not  to  revive  those  griefs;  he  knew, 
and  sympathized  with  his  whole  heart. 

Lois  started  slightly  when  he  said  this.  "  No,  do  not 
offer  me  sympathy  now,  Dr.  Knapp,"  she  said.  "  I  do 
not  need  it.  The  memory  which  was  once  the  holiest 
of  my  life  perished  utterly  and  ignobly  at  the  last,  and 
it  has  left  no  influence  that  could  rouse  me  to  feel  either 
much  pain  or  pleasure.  There  was  a  time,  when  I 
first  learned  how  unworthy  the  object  of  my  remem 
brance  had  been  of  all  my  tender  thoughts,  —  then  I 
suffered  bitterly  and  sharply  for  a  while.  But  it  was 


THE   DRIVE   UP   THE   LEAFY   GKADE.  417 

eoon  over.  It  was  only  the  destruction  of  a  sad  mem 
ory,  after  all,  not  of  a  living,  flourishing  joy;  and  now 
there  is  only  «i  cold,  dead  feeling  left  in  its  place,  that 
can  never  disturb  me  again." 

The  Doctor  made  no  comment,  though  inwardly  he 
rejoiced  to  know  that  Lois  had  cast  off  a  sorrow  which 
would  have  deprived  her  of  the  happiest  duties  of  life. 
He  went  on  to  explain  George's  confession,  with  some 
hesitation,  knowing  that  the  story  he  must  relate  would 
be  full  of  surprises  to  Lois,  involving  one  who  had  once 
been  so  near  to  her,  and  explaining  events  which  had 
happened  so  close  to  her  home. 

"'  We  must  regard  this  as  strictly  confidential  until 
matters  have  all  been  righted,  —  all  made  straight,"  he 
said.  "  My  mission  is  a  strange  one,  —  something  al 
most  incredible,  until  I  have  proved  its  necessity  by 
the  letters  which  I  have.  I  knew  it  would  require  my 
personal  presence  here,  —  I  who  heard  the  story  with 
my  own  ears,  and  have  means  to  assure  myself  that  it 
was  not  the  ravings  of  a  dying  man.  I  shall  go  up  to 
Lucky  Streak  to  see  the  superintendent,  —  taking  care 
first  to  look  around  a  little  and  make  inquiries.  I 
must  ask  a  great  many  questions  of  you,  Miss  Warren. 
Shall  you  object?" 

"  Not  if  you  are  patient  enough  to  answer  all  of  mine. 
I  am  so  shocked  by  what  I  have  just  heard,  and  yet  so 
rejoiced  for  the  sake  of  Edward  and  Mrs.  Dennett,  that 
I  have  no  doubt  my  disturbed  mind  will  give  vent 
to  its  feelings  by  innumerable  questions,  and  incessant 
talking  about  the  matter." 

But  the  Doctor  after  a  little  time  took  care  to  change 
the  conversation  to  the  scenes  of  Locustville.  He  re- 


418  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

lated  all  the  news  he  could  think  of,  and  finally  spoke 
of  the  Hunmans.  Nettie,  he  said,  was  growing  much 
more  amiable.  She  brought  him  flowers,  and  did  her 
work  with  a  sweetness  and  quiet  grace  seemingly  im 
possible  to  one  so  irritable  as  she  had  been.  "  There 
are  many  redeeming  qualities  in  her  character,"  he 
explained,  "but  they  have  always  been  hidden  and 
crushed  by  the  less  pleasing  ones.  She  has  been  a 
child,  —  a  helpless  plaything, — in  the  hands  of  a  large 
family  of  older  children,  —  for  her  uncles  are  little  else 
in  their  own  home.  They  have  teased  and  worried  her 
for  their  amusement  until  all  her  energies  were  bent 
toward  defending  herself,  and  her  unformed  character 
found  no  outlet  to  expand  into  anything  broader  and 
better.  I  saw  the  state  of  things  at  once.  My  first 
work  was  to  encourage  Nettie.  I  helped  her  a  little  by 
giving  her  something  to  do,  —  something  with  a  reward 
for  it,  that  would  not  be  unwelcome  drudgery.  She 
was  saucy  and  ungrateful  at  first,  but  gradually  she 
grew  to  like  me  because  I  never  opposed  or  worried  her. 
Then  I  talked  to  her  uncles  a  little,  and  we  all  tried 
together.  But  the  wickedness  of  her  nature  seemed 
almost  incorrigible  for  a  long  while,  and  the  case  all 
but  hopeless,  —  all  but  lost.  However,  time  at  last 
brought  about  a  change." 

"  But  do  you  think  it  well  to  humor  irritable  people, 
Dr.  Knapp?"  asked  Lois.  "  Does  it  not  rather  cultivate 
their  selfishness  and  impatience?" 

"Usually  it  does,  I  think,"  returned  the  Doctor. 
"  But  with  Nettie  the  case  was  different.  She  is  by 
nature  rather  proud,  yet  her  pride  was  so  utterly 
crushed  that  she  went  to  the  opposite  extreme,  and 


THE  DRIVE  UP  THE  LEAFY  GRADE.       419 

became  almost  shameless  in  her  ill  nature.  By  allow 
ing  her  a  little  chance  to  grow, — to  think,  —  you  see, 
she  began  to  take  an  interest  in  making  friends  and 
presenting  a  lady-like  appearance.  We  had  just  got 
her  started  on  the  right  road,  when  something  very 
encouraging  came  along  to  help  us."  The  Doctor 
paused,  but  Lois  waited  for  him  to  resume  his  little 
story,  without  a  question.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had 
ever  spoken  so  about  Nettie.  How  kind  of  him,  she 
thought,  to  try  to  bring  out  the  good  in  such  an 
unlovely  character!  She  remembered  that  morning 
when  they  had  first  met  the  snappish  little  girl  in  the 
old  hospital,  and  the  Doctor  had  borne  her  disrespect 
ful  sallies  with  calm  patience.  Ah,  she  knew  the 
secret  of  it  nowl 

And  again  she  thought,  with  mortification,  how  she 
herself  had  been  indifferent  to  poor  Nettie,  and  at  the 
last  avoided  and  mistrusted  her.  Truly,  the  Doctor 
was  most  magnificently  generous  to  discover  the  good 
under  all  that  unpleasant  exterior,  and  strive  to  culti 
vate  it,  even  at  the  expense  of  his  own  comfort. 

"  Nettie  found  some  one,"  continued  Dr.  Knapp,  — 
<lsome  one  who  encouraged  her,  not  by  kind  indulgence, 
but  by  treatment  which  appealed  to  her  pride.  She 
will  in  time  become  very  devoted  and  kind  to  her  near 
est  friends,  though  I  think  she  will  never  quite  outgrow 
her  lively  temper  when  annoyed  by  others.  She  has 
not  enough  broad  charity  for  that.  As  I  was  saying, 
this  new  friend  praised  and  defended  her,  and  in  turn, 
of  course,  she  showed  lovely  little  graces  that  were 
very  surprising.  It  was  a  most  fortunate  thing  that 
she  should  find  such  a  person, —  ah-h,  —  in  fact,  that 
she  should  find  such  a  beau." 


420  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

"O  dear!"  said  Lois,  laughing  merrily.  "Then  this 
friend  was  a  beau.  Who  was  he?" 

"  Rather  who  is  he,"  said  the  Doctor,  getting  red. 
"  He  is  now  more  than  ever  her  friend." 

"  Well,  then,  who  is  he?  "  asked  Lois,  correcting  her 
self. 

"Er-r — Horace  Graham." 

"Horace  Graham!"  echoed  Lois,  opening  her  eyes 
wide  in  wonder.  "  I  'm  surprised.  Is  he  a  good,  en 
couraging  friend?  I  always  thought  him  such  a 
trifling,  nonsense-loving  fellow." 

"  So  he  is,"  replied  the  Doctor,  "  nonsense-loving, 
—  and  for  that  very  reason  he  puts  cross  Nettie  into 
a  pleasant  mood.  He  needs  some  one  to  lead  him 
around,  just  as  Nettie  loves  to  do,  and  because  he 
pleases  her,  she  is  pleasant  and  lady-like;  because  she 
shows  a  pleasant  disposition,  he  in  return  is  loyal,— 
attentive." 

"  I  'm  sure  I  'm  very  glad,"  said  Lois,  thoughtfully. 

And  after  that  they  sat  and  mused  over  the  strange 
things  life  brings  to  us;  while  the  firelight  flickered 
and  died  away  into  melting  ash-drifts,  and  John  came 
in  to  put  another  back-log  on  the  smothered  embers. 

The  Doctor  prolonged  his  visit  to  the  mountains  for 
several  days.  There  was  much  to  be  done,  and  Mr. 
Sevenoakes,  sleek  and  careful  as  usual,  was  very  reluc 
tant  to  believe  anything  unfavorable  about  his  friend 
Brooklyn.  He  was  heartily  glad,  however,  that  Ed 
ward  Dennett  had  been  proved  blameless;  for  notwith 
standing  the  fact  that  personally  he  felt  little  interest 
in  the  young  man,  he  recognized  a  good  workman,  one 


THE   DRIVE   UP  THE   LEAFY   GRADE.  421 

whom  he  respected  despite  prejudices;  and  since  he 
had  been  obliged  to  make  quite  a  struggle  to  find  a 
trustworthy  man  for  manager,  he  felt  a  strong  hope  of 
securing  Edward  again. 

Cautiously  the  little  man  and  the  Doctor  investi 
gated  the  case.  Knowles,  who  still  remained  at  Lucky 
Streak,  was  interviewed,  and  finding  himself  circum 
vented  by  irrefutable  proof,  admitted  the  whole  crime 
on  being  assured  by  his  confessors,  that,  since  they  had 
been  given  the  knowledge  of  his  guilt  on  promise  of 
secrecy,  they  would  not  divulge  it  without  his  consent, 
though  the  thoughtful  Doctor  appealed  to  the  poor 
wretch's  conscience  for  some  smouldering  impulse  of 
honesty. 

Mr.  Sevenoakes  had  not  suffered  severely  by  the  fire, 
and  consequently  felt  rather  willing  to  forgive,  and 
promise  concealment  to  the  agonized  creature  who 
pleaded  with  him. 

In  justice  to  Edward  Dennett  and  all  others  con 
cerned,  even  Mr.  Sevenoakes  agreed  that  the  true  origin 
of  the  fire  should  be  made  public,  toned  down  as  chari 
tably  as  possible  into  an  accident,  for  George's  sake. 
Before  taking  the  step,  however,  the  Doctor  decided 
that  Mrs.  Dennett  should  hear  the  good  news  first, 
and  bethought  himself  of  Lois  as  the  messenger.  The 
gentle  little  school-mistress  was  just  the  one  to  carry 
good  tidings,  she  was  so  sympathetic  and  joyous- 
hearted;  and  besides,  he  had  heard  her  speak  so  often 
in  loving  terms  of  Mrs.  Dennett,  that  he  was  sure  she 
would  be  happy  to  do  something  for  the  dear  friend  of 
her  early  girlhood. 

For  two  or  three  days  the  Doctor  had  made  daily 


422  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

trips  up  to  Lucky  Streak  from  Robinson's,  and  when 
on  his  return  one  evening  lie  suggested  that  Lois 
accompany  him  next  day  on  her  kind  mission,  she 
was  thoroughly  delighted.  She  was  greatly  interested 
in  the  news  of  the  Doctor's  work,  and  now  when  she 
could  share  and  help,  she  felt  that  she  had  heard  the 
best  news  of  all. 

The  Doctor  cautioned  Lois  to  rise  early,  and  she 
playfully  assured  him  that  he  would  only  be  com 
mencing  his  morning  nap  when  she  had  shaken  off 
the  last  dream  of  slumberland.  And  of  course  she 
was  right.  The  household  was  always  astir  early;  and 
since  Dr.  Knapp's  advent  into  it,  there  was  increased 
effort  that  everything  might  pass  pleasantly  and  or 
derly  for  his  sake. 

John  was  agreeably  surprised  with  Lois's  medical 
friend,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  admit  to  her  that  a 
certain  pair  of  gloves  were  not  really  canary-tinted,  — 
only  a  rich  tan-yellow.  He  was  never  tired  of  examin 
ing  Lady  Snowdrop's  fine  black  harness,  which  seemed 
so  delicate,  yet  proved  so  strong  and  pretty  besides, 
with  its  ivory  rings  and  burnished  buckles.  The  gig, 
and  Lady  Snowdrop  herself,  were  equally  objects  for 
his  wonder  and  admiration,  and  he  felt  that  too  much 
care  could  not  possibly  be  bestowed  upon  them. 

The  girls,  also,  thought  that  Lois  had  certainly  not 
overrated  the  Doctor's  good  qualities.  At  first  they 
almost  felt  as  if  he  was  a  godlike  creature,  too  grand 
and  noble  to  care  for  the  material  benefits  of  this  world, 
and  they  felt  at  a  loss  to  find  some  way  to  please  him. 

But  when  they  discovered  that  he  had  an  excellent 
appetite,  and  liked  plenty  of  roast  beef  and  plum  pud- 


THE   DRIVE   UP   THE   LEAFY   GRADE.  423 

ding,  they  were  much  relieved,  feeling  that  there  was 
one  way  in  which  they  could  show  their  appreciation, 
and  hence  they  liked  him  all  the  better  for  it. 

So  of  course  no  caution  was  necessary  about  the 
early  rising.  The  girls  were  very  particular  to  have 
the  home  pleasant  and  the  breakfast  tempting,  and 
there  was  a  general  rush  to  make  a  pat  of  sweet,  golden 
butter  and  the  lightest  biscuits  possible,  not  to  mention 
other  choice  things,  for  the  table.  Lois  was  up  with 
the  rest,  busy  getting  ready  for  her  early  drive,  and 
helping  with  the  breakfast;  but  when  the  bell  rang, 
and  the  Doctor  did  not  appear,  she  stepped  out  into 
the  porch  to  see  if  he  had  yet  gone  out  to  look  after 
Lady  Snowdrop. 

"Why,  what  a  good-looking  man  the  Doctor  is!" 
thought  Lois,  when  she  discovered  him  tying  Lady 
Snowdrop  to  one  of  the  long  row  of  hitching-stakes, 
and  covering  her  carefully  with  a  blanket.  He  patted 
her  smooth,  snowy  neck,  and  spoke  kindly  to  her  as  he 
adjusted  the  halter  again,  quite  unconscious  that  some 
one  dearer  to  him  than  any  other  in  the  world  was 
thinking  what  a  pleasant  picture  she  saw  before  her, 
of  which  he  formed  no  inconsiderable  part. 

It  was  one  of  those  bright,  frosty  mornings  in  au 
tumn,  when  the  air  is  sharp  and  clear  and  exhilarat 
ing,  when  the  season  seems  to  combine  all  the  beauties 
of  the  year.  There  were  the  tender  greenness  and  the 
fresh  beauty  of  the  spring;  floods  of  rich,  summery 
sunshine  streaming  through  the  trees,  dispelling  the 
shadows  of  the  morning  twilight,  and  converting  beds 
of  wet  brown  leaves  into  scales  of  burnished  silver; 
there  were  the  deep  blue  skies,  and  the  damp,  fresh, 


424  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

earthy  scents  of  winter;  the  white  ice-gems  melting 
from  the  trees,  the  roofs,  and  the  sunless  corners,  the 
yellow,  perishing  vines,  and  the  red-tipped,  scanty 
leaves  of  autumn. 

Out  where  the  hard  brown  road  broadened  in  its 
sweep  up  to  the  door  was  the  shiny-wheeled  black  gig, 
the  white  horse,  and  the  Doctor  too,  surrounded  by  a 
background  of  green  forests  of  pine  and  fir,  golden  and 
sparkling  in  the  sunlight  and  the  frost,  and  the  new 
growth  of  grass  creeping  up  to  the  roadside,  its  bright, 
velvety  greenness  dotted  here  and  there  with  showers 
of  decaying  brown  or  white-veined  skeleton  leaves.  A 
cloud  of  steam  arose  with  each  breath  from  Lady  Snow 
drop's  delicate  pink  nostrils,  and  several  times  she 
looked  around  appealingly  at  the  Doctor,  as  if  to  re 
quest  that  he  leave  nothing  undone  which  could  con 
tribute  to  her  comfort.  She  was  looking  beautifully 
plump  and  fine  that  morning.  No  blemish  marred 
the  soft  creaminess  of  her  coat,  and  her  bright,  dark 
eyes,  her  arched  neck  covered  with  a  flowing  mane  of 
crystal,  wavy  threads,  and  her  little  neat  black  hoofs 
impatiently  stamping  up  layers  of  the  crusted  earth, 
all  combined  to  make  her  a  very  handsome  creature, 
—  which  the  Doctor  had  once  said  was  the  only  thing 
that  could  possibly  excuse  her  indolence. 

But  the  Doctor  himself  seemed  most  attractive  to  Lois. 
She  smiled  unconsciously  to  find  herself  thinking  that 
Lady  Snowdrop  was  no  finer  specimen  of  her  kind  than 
the  Doctor  of  noble,  perfect  manhood.  The  thought 
seemed  absurd,  and  yet  she  rather  liked  to  indulge  it. 
And  there  was,  besides,  a  certain  pleasure  in  seeing  the 
odd  little  cart  and  the  Doctor's  familiar  face  making 


THE   DRIVE   UP   THE   LEAFY   GRADE.  425 

a  part  of  her  old  home  scenes.  Except  her  bright 
glimpses  of  the  past  summer,  associated  with  pleas 
ant  drives  through  avenues  of  blossoming  locust,  all 
the  rest  of  her  life  at  Locustville  had  lost  its  power 
to  move  her  feelings  either  to  bliss  or  pain.  And  since 
the  Doctor  had  somehow  become  blended  with  these 
scenes  before  her,  she  closed  the  book  of  her  dead  hopes 
and  sorrows  forever,  without  one  mournful  regret,  and 
let  the  present,  holding  as  it  did  all  that  her  warm  heart 
cherished,  bring  its  full  measure  of  delights,  untinctured 
with  any  touch  or  remembrance  of  grief. 

The  Doctor,  stepping  about  briskly  to  arrange  the 
scarlet-lined  robe  over  the  broad  seat,  and  to  secure 
the  reins,  looked  up  and  caught  sight  of  Lois  standing 
on  the  edge  of  the  porch.  She  was  dressed  in  a  neat 
wool  dress  of  gray,  relieved  by  a  bunch  of  rose-colored 
ribbon,  which  gave  her  flower-like  face  a  softer,  fairer 
bloom  than  it  had  ever  worn  before.  He  was  pleased 
with  the  little  surprise,  and  said  good-naturedly,  "  So 
you  are  up  with  the  sun  this  morning,  Miss  Warren. 
We  shall  have  a  fine  drive — a  glorious  drive — through 
this  keen,  delicious  air." 

"  Up  before  the  sun,  you  should  have  said,  Doctor," 
Lois  answered.  "  I  Jve  been  making  biscuits,  which 
naturally  I  am  anxious  to  hear  praised,  so  I  came  out 
to  tell  you  that  the  breakfast-bell  has  already  rung, 
and  we  ha.ve  been  wondering  if  you  heard  it." 

"  Thank  you.  I  heard  no  echo  of  it,"  said  the  Doc 
tor;  "  but  I  will  be  ready  in  a  moment.  I  cannot  afford 
to  postpone  very  long  the  pleasure  of  trying  one  of  your 
biscuits." 

Lois  laughed  and  ran  into  the  house.   Her  heart  was 


426  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

lighter  than  it  had  been  before  for  years,  and  her  face, 
dimpled  with  smiles,  was  so  bright  that  Milcie  greeted 
her  as  she  went  into  the  dining-room  with  the  remark 
that  the  country  air  was  reviving  her  remarkably. 

"  Why,  you  can  get  an  early  breakfast  as  easily  as 
I,  who  rise  every  morning  in  the  year  to  do  it.  You 
don't  look  as  if  the  indolence  of  the  school-room  has 
at  all  affected  you." 

Lois  laughed  as  she  poured  the  coffee,  and  welcomed 
the  Doctor,  coming  in  at  that  moment,  with  a  pleasant 
glance  of  her  soft  blue  eyes,  which  stirred  his  heart 
strings  just  a  trifle  more  than  her  glances  usually  did 
in^those  later  days  of  his  love. 

Lois  enjoyed  the  breakfast  hour  in  her  old  home  that 
cold  autumn  morning  more  than  any  other  since  her 
return.  It  seemed  so  pleasant  to  have  the  Doctor  there 
filling  up  the  home  circle.  He  really  was  her  best 
loved  friend  outside  of  her  own  people,  she  told  herself; 
and  then,  besides,  his  presence,  as  it  always  did,  sent  a 
glow  of  kind  feeling  and  happiness  into  her  warm,  gen 
erous  heart,  that  was  ever  giving  away  its  own  sunlight 
to  others.  The  dining-room  was  unusually  cheerful, 
with  the  soft  light  coming  through  the  frost-pictured 
windows,  and  falling  over  the  bright,  warm-hued  car 
pet,  and  over  the  snowy  table  around  which  so  many 
pleasant  faces  clustered.  Savory  scents  of  coffee  made 
the  room  fragrant,  and  little  puffs  of  white  steam  from 
Lois's  flakey  biscuits  floated  up  and  dissolved  in  the 
cool  atmosphere. 

John  came  in  rubbing  his  hands,  and  took  a  seat  by 
the  Doctor,  remarking  that  the  cold,  frosty  air  outside 
sent  the  blood  coursing  in  warm  currents  even  to  the 


THE   DRIVE   UP   THE   LEAFY  GRADE.  427 

tips  of  his  fingers;  while  the  Doctor,  in  sympathy, 
began  rubbing  his  own  hands  too,  and  replied  that  he 
thought  the  weather  rather  frosty  for  a  country  that 
professed  to  be  semi-tropical.  "  But  then,"  he  added, 
"  your  mountainous  regions  claim  the  right  to  indulge 
in  ice  and  snow,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,"  John  answered,  "  the  air  is  thin  here,  and  the 
summits  over  in  the  east  keep  a  perpetual  supply  of 
chilly  weather  to  send  us,  should  we  get  short." 

"  I  almost  envy  you  such  mornings  as  this,  though," 
said  the  Doctor,  thoughtfully.  "  The  sharp  coldness 
is  enough  to  wake  up  the  dullest  —  ah-h,  the  sleepiest 
head.  One  could  actually  have  dreams  of  empire,  and 
all  sorts  of  other  glories,  if  he  lived  here  very  long,  and 
rose  each  morning  to  drink  in  this  cold,  sweet,  pine- 
steeped  air,  and  to  draw  inspiration  from  these  dark- 
clothed,  majestic  mountains  that  surround  us." 

"I'll  venture  to  say  you'd  have  dreams  enough. 
We  all  do,"  replied  John;  "but  the  trouble  here  is, 
that  our  inconveniences  are  twofold  more  than  yours  in 
the  lower  country,  so  our  dreams  barely  enable  us  to 
overcome  the  extra  trouble  we  undergo  by  living  here. 
That 's  the  way  our  dreams  vanish.  We  have  nothing 
left  after  all  but  the  pleasure  they  give." 

Lois  looked  at  John's  rough,  red  hands  as  he  said 
this,  and  compared  them  with  the  Doctor's,  smooth 
and  plump,  that  had  lightened  so  many  burdens  for 
others,  and  yet  to  her  seemed  never  to  have  had  very 
heavy  ones  of  their  own  to  bear;  she  looked  at  John's 
honest,  sun-browned  face,  and  his  old,  worn  clothes,  and 
thinking  of  his  hard,  busy  life,  and  how  all  the  dreams 
of  his  early  youth  had  given  way  to  struggles  and  wor- 


428  AHOUND  THE  GOLDEN  DEEP. 

riments,  a  feeling  of  inexpressible  tenderness  toward 
him  stirred  in  her  heart.  He  looked  hardly  more  than 
a  boy,  and  yet  his  lot  had  been  for  many  long  years  a 
very  hard  one.  "  How  I  wish  I  might  do  something 
to  brighten  dear  John's  life!"  whispered  a  wish  down 
in  the  deep  recesses  of  her  heart;  and  looking  the  next 
moment  toward  the  Doctor,  she  felt  that  there  she 
could  find  the  answer  to  her  wish.  He  sat  with  such 
a  kindly  look  on  his  face,  and  seemed  in  such  hearty 
sympathy  with  this  home  and  the  interests  of  those  in 
it,  she  felt  sure  he  would  share  her  desire  to  make  a 
touch  of  brightness  in  her  dear  brother's  upright  life. 
The  Doctor  was  so  strong  and  capable  to  her.  She  had 
somehow  grown  to  submit  her  plans  to  him  with  more 
reliance  on  that  strength  and  wisdom  than  even  she 
herself  knew. 

Then  her  thoughts  took  a  brighter  phase.  She  fell 
to  thinking  how  good  he  was  to  always  show  such  gen 
erous  compassion  to  others,  when  most  likely  the  ways 
of  his  own  life  had  led  in  pleasant  places,  and  he  could 
scarcely  know  from  experience  how  to  pity  others.  She 
little  knew  how  his  lonely,  unselfish  life  had  taught  him 
to  forget  his  own  troubles,  that  other  lives  might  be 
richer  for  the  poverty  of  his. 

She  felt  rather  proud  of  him.  She  knew  that  her 
own  people  recognized  his  goodness;  that  they  felt  an 
admiration  something  akin  to  her  own;  and  so  she  ex 
perienced  almost  a  childlike  pleasure  in  seeing  them 
so  solicitous  for  his  comfort,  and  so  ready  to  honor  him 
in  their  simple  way. 

His  behavior  was  always  so  full  of  deference  and  un- 
obstrusive  politeness,  which  were  very  delightful  in  spite 


THE   DRIVE   UP   THE   LEAFY   GRADE.  429 

of  his  nervousness,  that  she  felt  sure  his  presence  in 
fused  a  charm  into  every  heart  within  reach  of  its  influ 
ence. 

He  sat  talking  lightly  with  John  about  the  moun 
tain  districts,  expressing  his  surprise  over  the  beauty 
of  the  scenery,  and  the  wild,  pristine  glory  of  a  region 
that  had  borne  the  tread  of  many  thousand  feet  and 
the  blows  of  many  thousand  picks.  His  face  lighted 
up  with  enthusiasm  as  he  spoke  of  his  love  for  the 
mountains;  and  Lois  thought  again  that  it  was  indeed 
strange  she  had  never  before  discovered  that  the  Doc 
tor  was  almost  handsome.  "  But  then,"  she  mused, 
uit  must  be  that  his  retiring  disposition  keeps  one 
from  thinking  much  about  his  personal  appearance. 
Besides,  he  is  so  good,  one  sees  only  the  kindness  in 
his  face,  without  looking  for  anything  less  pleasing." 

And  then  she  vaguely  wondered  how  she  ever  could 
have  thought  the  Doctor  old.  He  certainly  looked  young 
that  morning,  although  his  brown,  curling  hair,  parted 
so  evenly  in  a  narrow  white  line  above  his  broad  fore 
head,  showed  many  silver  threads  in  its  glossy  waves. 
But  his  clear  gray  eyes  beamed  with  a  youthful  frank 
ness,  and  his  calm  face,  slightly  flushed,  looked  so 
beneficent  and  serene,  so  free  from  all  traces  of  bit 
terness  or  discontent,  that  she  felt  sure  the  generous 
charity  shining  through  it  issued  from  the  sweet,  per 
petual  spring-time  of  his  heart.  There  was  a  certain 
purity  about  him  that  all  felt,  — the  sure  inheritance 
of  a  life  w<3ll  lived,  of  wisdom  discreetly  gathered  from 
the  best  experiences  of  the  past. 

Lois  grew  almost  enthusiastic  in  her  admiration  of 
the  Doctor,  and  so  quite  forgot  to  eat  her  breakfast,  un- 


430  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

til  reminded  of  it  by  him.  "  You  must  remember  this 
air  sharpens  the  appetite,  and  you  will  wish  for  another 
breakfast  before  we  have  driven  a  mile,  —  at  Lady  Snow 
drop's  pace,"  he  added,  with  a  sly  twinkle  of  his  eye. 

So  Lois  checked  her  pleasant  train  of  thought,  and 
finished  her  meal,  without  indulging  it  further.  In  the 
hurry  that  followed  her  preparation  to  start,  she  was 
scarcely  reminded  of  the  Doctor,  until  the  girls  had  all 
assembled  in  the  porch  to  see  her  off.  and  stood  giving 
her  dress  sly  little  pulls  to  adjust  some  wrinkled  fold, 
and  pinning  at  her  throat  the  late  blossoms  of  a  pink 
geranium  which  grew  in  a  sheltered  corner  of  the  porch. 

"Come,  Lois,"  said  the  Doctor,  fastening  Lady  Snow 
drop's  check-rein  in  its  place  after  she  had  refused  the 
cold  water  of  the  brimming  tank,  and  Lois  with  a  little 
start  and  a  faint  blush  went  down  the  steps  to  be  helped 
into  the  gig,  with  her  mind  so  confused  she  scarcely 
realized  what  had  happened  until  the  Doctor  was 
seated  beside  her  and  they  were  starting  away. 

"  I  may  call  you  Lois,  may  I  not,  when  we  are  here 
in  your  old  home  among  your  own  people  who  call  you 
by  that  name?"  asked  the  Doctor,  as  they  drove  away 
amid  the  chorus  of  good-bys  from  the  porch;  and  he 
looked  down  upon  the  fair  face  beside  him  with  a  pro 
tecting  tenderness  beaming  from  his  kind  gray  eyes. 

"Why,  yes;  I'd  rather  have  you.  It  is  less  formal, 
and  so  much  more  friendly,"  Lois  replied.  "  But  he 
need  n't  be  quite  so  fatherly  about  it,"  she  added  men 
tally,  as  she  remembered  with  a  touch  of  indignation 
the  look  that  accompanied  his  request.  "  There  is  n't 
so  very  much  difference  in  our  ages,  that  he  can  think 
me  a  mere  child  compared  to  him." 


THE   DRIVE   UP   THE   LEAFY   GRADE.  431 

But  the  Doctor,  all  unconscious  that  Lois  did  not 
look  upon  him  as  old  and  prosy,  felt  indeed  quite  like 
her  fatherly  protector,  and  tried  very  hard  to  keep  all 
other  thoughts  buried  up  in  the  grave  of  his  perished 
hopes. 

"I  always  like  to  drive  through  the  woods  in  the 
autumn,  when  the  leaves  are  turning  red,"  he  remarked 
at  length,  as  they  passed  out  of  the  sunlight  of  the 
open  road  under  the  dark  canopy  of  shadowy  trees. 
"  The  damp  scents  from  the  decaying  leaves  under 
foot,  and  the  soft  glory  of  the  gold  and  crimson  foliage 
lighting  up  the  sombreness  of  the  dim  vistas,  have  a 
power  to  recall  my  boyhood  more  vividly  than  any 
thing  else." 

There  was  always  something  so  dreamy,  so  full  of 
gentle  feeling,  about  the  Doctor, —  something  which 
appealed  so  tenderly  to  a  kindred  chord  in  others, — 
that  Lois  quite  forgave  him  for  that  glance  as  he  said 
this,  and  forgot  it  almost  while  indulging  that  strange 
sympathy  we  feel  toward  those  who  turn  back  fondly 
in  remembrance  to  their  early  home. 

"  We  are  almost  too  late  for  the  full  beauty  of  the 
fall,"  she  answered.  "  I  like  best  to  see  the  trees  be 
fore  any  of  the  bright  leaves  have  fallen.  Still,  there 
is  color  enough  left,  though  the  winds  have  almost 
stripped  the  boughs.  See  that  red  leaf,  glowing  in  the 
sun!  It  is  like  a  ruby  covered  with  a  dewy  shower  of 
diamond  dust.  We  can  take  the  lower  grade,  that 
winds  along  the  hill  just  above  the  creek,  if  you  want 
to  enjoy  the  fullest  glory  of  the  autumn  in  the  moun 
tains.  It  seems  much  prettier  to  me  than  the  travelled 
stage-route,  for  the  roadside  is  uncleared,  and  of  course 


432  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

the  trees  grow  thicker  near  the  water.  Besides,  it  is 
associated  with  the  pleasant  drives  I  used  to  take  in 
my  childhood  up  to  Mrs.  Dennett's,  when  the  old  town 
was  in  its  prime.  The  upper  grade  was  not  built  then, 
and  all  this  country  was  in  the  full  flush  of  its  first  ex 
citement,  very  unlike  the  dull  lethargy  that  has  settled 
over  it  now,  which  scarcely  seems  disturbed  by  the 
opening  of  a  new  era  of  prosperity." 

"  The  lower  road,  by  all  means,  must  be  chosen,  if 
the  solitude  is  deeper  there,"  said  the  Doctor.  "We 
must  not  allow  the  least  suggestion  of  the  outer  world 
to  mar  the  peaceful  quiet  of  this  perfect  day." 

Then  they  talked  a  while  about  the  changing  leaves, 
and  Dr.  Knapp  told  Lois  of  the  maples  of  New  England; 
how  the  fall  dressed  all  the  forests  in  robes  of  buff  and 
russet-gold  and  crimson,  and  the  brown  burs  opened  to 
let  out  their  treasures;  and  how  he  and  his  brother 
spent  many  hours  of  the  purple  autumn  weather 
ranging  the  gorgeous  woods  in  search  of  their  store 
of  Christmas  nuts. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  recalled  his  New 
England  home  that  morning.  His  thoughts  had  been 
busy  at  breakfast  time,  in  a  deep  undercurrent,  through 
all  his  cheerful  talk.  The  frosty  windows,  and  the  in 
spiration  of  the  home  life  all  around  him,  had  some 
how  touched  a  chord  of  his  being  that  had  not  vi 
brated  so  fully  or  so  strongly  since  the  halcyon  days 
of  his  boyhood.  To  be  one  of  that  charmed  circle,  to 
feel  instinctively  that  he  had  a  little  share  of  the  inner 
riches  of  its  love,  to  be  near  Lois,  and  to  see  her  cheer 
ful  once  again,  opened  a  vein  of  happiness  as  rare  as 
it  was  blissful. 


THE    DRIVE    UP    THE    LEAFY    GRADE.  433 

But  still  in  that  fond  returning  to  his  youth,  and  to 
the  influence  of  his  childhood's  home,  he  realized  there 
was  another  feeling, —  something  deeper  and  more  joy 
ous,  which  not  only  heightened  his  pleasure  in  the  res 
toration  of  those  by-gone  days,  but  held  a  charm,  a 
power  of  its  own,  stirring  him  with  a  rapture  he 
scarcely  dared  indulge.  It  made  his  heart  even  trem 
ble,  lest  he  should  forget  the  hard  lot  fate  had  meted 
out  to  him,  and  which  he  had  resolved  to  accept  with 
out  complaining,  and  so  give  way  to  that  nameless 
ecstacy  until  too  late  to  save  himself  from  the  de 
spairing  misery  that  would  follow  its  inevitable  flight. 
And  yet  there  was  an  exhilaration  that  rose  up 
through  all  his  sad  forebodings,  through  all  his  set 
tled  griefs,  and  like  the  spirit  of  his  dead  happiness 
resurrected,  pleaded  with  unconquerable  earnestness 
for  just  that  one  short  season  of  renewal.  He  could 
not  long  resist  the  delight  that  possessed  him;  it 
allayed  his  fears,  and  lifted  him  up  into  that  fair, 
enchanted  region,  where  the  world's  dull  common 
places,  its  strivings  and  its  wearing  sorrows,  have  no 
part. 

And  so,  as  they  drove  along,  he  and  Lois  together, 
on  that  matchless  October  day,  over  the  quiet,  leaf- 
lined  road  that  led  around  the  hillsides  in  odd  and 
devious  windings,  he  felt  that  earth  was  nearer  heaven 
than  he  had  ever  realized  before;  he  even  allowed  him 
self  to  fancy  that  the. life  which  he  had  left  behind 
was  cleansed  of  everything  but  sweet  and  spotless 
memories,  and  the  way  before  him  borrowed  more  and 
more  of  the  beauties  of  elysian  fields,  till  it  ended  at 
the  gate  of  Paradise. 


434  AROUND    THE    GOLDEN    DEEP. 

The  sunshine  fell  in  warm,  golden  showers  through 
the  pines,  and  turned  the  white  frost-crystals  into  dia 
mond  drops  of  dew;  while  above  them,  on  the  vine- 
grown  bank  overhanging  the  road,  or  below  them, 
where  the  wild  nests  of  bushes  choked  up  the  canon 
through  which  the  clear  stream  roared,  autumn's  mel 
low  glories  were  displayed  in  yellow,  dying  sprays, 
trembling  above  the  brownness  of  the  naked  earth, 
and  flame-red  leaf-tongues  flashing  forth  from  hollow- 
hearted  tangles  each  moment  as  they  passed  along. 
The  ferns,  old  and  brittle,  leaned  out  of  their  rocky 
crevices,  and  flaunted  threads  of  gossamer  from  their 
half-crushed  silvery  fronds;  and  the  squirrels,  with  soft 
bright  eyes  and  plumy  coats  of  short  gray  fur,  flitted 
about  quickly  through  the  fallen  leaves,  and  left  the 
imprint  of  their  sharp  toes  in  the  damp  red  soil  of 
the  road  as  they  ran  across  to  take  refuge  in  their 
sheltered  holes  beneath  the  rocks.  Sometimes  a  leaf 
fluttered  down  from  the  canopy  of  vine-mantled  trees 
leaning  above  the  way,  and  lodged  in  Lady  Snowdrop's 
tossing  mane,  or  slipped  to  the  ground  after  a  brief 
stay  on  her  plump,  sleek  back;  and  now  and  then  on 
the  still,  keen  air  rang  out  the  distant  call  of  some 
wild  bird  from  the  echoing  woods. 

No  word  profaned  the  golden  silence,  until  Lois, 
returning  to  her  thoughts  at  breakfast  time,  deemed  it 
a  fitting  season  to  ask  the  Doctor  what  she  could  do 
for  John.  She  had  been  thinking,  too.  And  like  the 
Doctor,  she  had  indulged  in  day-dreams  that  brought 
her  memories  rare  and  beautiful.  That  old  graded 
road,  leading  along  the  mountain-side  through  the  very 
heart  of  the  wild  woods,  had  seemed  to  relapse  into  the 


THE   DRIVE   UP   THE   LEAFY   GRADE.  435 

calm,  primeval  beauty  that  had  haunted  it  long  ago, 
and  renewed  her  cherished,  unchangeable  pictures  of 
the  past.  And  yet  she  could  not  forget  something  that 
troubled  her,  though  she  hardly  dared  admit  it  to 
herself.  She  shrank  from  the  loneliness  she  knew 
would  return  to  her  when  the  Doctor  went  back  to 
Locustville;  and  yet  she  told  herself  that  she  must 
stifle  that  strange  dread  that  came  over  her,  as  some 
thing  hardly  usual  in  friendship  such  as  hers.  But 
the  dread  would  not  be  stifled,  so  she  resolved  to  talk 
of  something  that  would  tend  to  relieve  her  mind. 

"  Dr.  Knapp,"  she  said,  suddenly,  "  I  was  thinking 
of  John  this  morning,  —  thinking  how  much  I  would 
like  to  do  something  to  make  more  pleasant  his  hard 
life.  He  has  always  been  such  a  good  boy, — so  faithful 
and  willing.  You  can  scarcely  understand  just  how 
good,  because  his  trials  and  hardships  have  been  of  a 
kind  of  which  you  know  nothing.  And  I  resolved  to 
talk  with  you  about  it,  because  your  suggestions  are 
always  so  valuable  to  me." 

"  Ah!  So  we  have  both  been  thinking  of  John,  I  see," 
replied  the  Doctor.  "  I  am  sure  he  has  been  a  kind, 
faithful  brother.  But  I  am  ahead  of  you  in  my  plans, 
and  so,  perhaps,  you  will  allow  me  to  finish  it  for 
you  —  in  your  name.  During  my  talks  with  Mr. 
Sevenoakes  I  discovered  that  there  was  a  fine  opening 
for  some  one  in  connection  with  the  mine,  so  I  im 
mediately  thought  of  John.  It  will  enable  him  to  get 
help  to  fill  his  place  at  home,  and  give  him  besides  a 
very  fair  start  in  life.  I  intended  to  settle  the  matter 
to-day,  and  if  favorable  to  my  wishes,  to  consult  John 
himself  about  his  ideas  of  the  plan.  I  scarcely  have  a 


436  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

doubt  but  that  he  will  be  able  to  get  it,  for  Mr.  Seven- 
oakes  has  been  much  troubled  with  unfaithful  work 
men,  even  since  the  fire." 

"Oh,  Dr.  Knapp!"  said  Lois,  quite  overcome  with 
gratitude.  "It  was  so  good  of  you!  I  hardly  know 
how  to  express  my  thanks.  You  have  always  been 
more  than  kind  to  me,  Dr.  Knapp;  and  I  have  often 
wished,  —  oh,  so  very  much!  —  that  I  could  do  some 
thing  in  return.  And  though  I  feel  wholly  powerless 
to  do  anything  commensurate  with  the  debt  of  grati 
tude  I  owe,  if  there  is  ever  anything  I  can  do,  will  you 
give  me  the  pleasure  I  shall  feel  in  performing  it,  by 
telling  me  what  it  is?" 

The  Doctor  looked  wistfully  away  toward  the  rugged 
hillside  beyond  the  canon.  He  hardly  dared  trust 
himself  to  speak  in  answer  to  such  words  while  the  ten 
der  thoughts  and  the  enchantment  of  the  lovely  scenes 
around  him  filled  his  heart.  And  then  suddenly  all 
reserve  deserted  him,  and  he  resolved,  let  come  what 
might  thereafter,  he  would  unburden  some  of  the  over 
flowing  affection  of  his  soul. 

"  My  sweet  friend,"  he  said,  "  do  not  ask  me  that. 
You  have  already  done  more  for  me  than  any  one  else 
in  the  world.  You  have  shown  me  a  glimpse  of  a  life 
more  pure  and  true  and  lovely  than  I  ever  dreamed  of. 
You  have  made  me  realize  that  in  this  delusive  world 
all  our  fond  fancies  do  not  end  in  disappointments  — 
in  regrets;  that  there  are  heights  of  delight  which  have 
their  foundations  in  the  firm  and  everlasting  rocks,  and 
their  summits  above  the  frowning  clouds  in  the  blue, 
untroubled  fields  of  heaven.  This  you  have  done  for 
me  when  the  innocent  faith  of  early  life  had  perished, 


THE   DRIVE    UP   THE   LEAFY   GRADE.  437 

and  had  left  me  hopelessly  striving  to  do  my  appointed 
work  in  a  world  that  held  none  of  its  choicest  blessings 
for  me.  I  have  felt  this  often  since  I  first  knew  you. 
You  have  made  my  life  far  richer  —  far  better  than  it 
ever  was  before;  and  though  I  regretfully  realize  that 
only  stray  touches  of  the  sunshine  you  bestow  can  fall 
on  me, — that  your  chosen  path  lies  far  from  mine, — yet 
I  long  to  have  a  little  place  in  your  heart,  which  you 
will  keep  for  me  alone,  and  will  feel  it  is  filled  by  a 
friend  whose  best  and  only  happiness  lies  in  knowing 
and  serving  you." 

Lois  sat  like  one  stunned  while  the  Doctor  spoke. 
Though  usually  calm  and  self-possessed,  she  sometimes 
had  moments  when  all  her  confidence  deserted  her; 
though  practical,  there  was  still  a  deep  vein  of  senti 
ment  in  her  character  that  thrilled  with  its  pensive 
beauty  every  purpose  and  action  of  her  life,  and  rose 
up  at  times  supreme  over  every  other  feeling.  And  so 
when  he  who  had  always  seemed  so  far  above  her, 
wrapped  in  his  cloak  of  experience  and  wisdom,  look 
ing  down  upon  her  —  though  she  hardly  liked  to  have 
him  do  it  —  from  that  calm,  disinterested  plane  of 
fatherly  friendship,  when  he  declared  to  her  what  a 
great  part  she  held  in  his  feelings  and  life,  she  simply 
covered  her  face  with  both  her  hands,  and  had  no  word 
to  say. 

There  was  just  a  moment  of  silence  between  them, 
which  seemed  almost  endless  to  Lois,  who  remained 
with  her  hands  before  her  eyes,  listening  as  if  in  a 
dream,  in  spite  of  the  tumult  of  her  thoughts,  to  the 
sharp  clatter  of  Lady  Snowdrop's  hoofs  on  the  hard 
road,  sounding  far  away  and  indistinct  to  her,  and 


438  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

feeling  a  cool  zephyr,  freighted  with  the  shrill,  sad 
whispers  of  the  pine  trees,  blow  against  her  cheek,  and 
then  die  away  with  soft,  low  rustles  in  the  leaves. 
But  she  quickly  raised  her  face,  revealing  the  slightest 
sparkle  of  a  tear  upon  her  eyelashes,  which  she  made 
an  unsuccessful  effort  to  conceal,  saying,  with  just  a 
suggestion  of  unsteadiness  in  her  voice,  "You  have 
already  a  place  in  my  heart,  Dr.  Knapp;  it  surely 
must  be  needless  for  me  to  tell  you  that.  I  know  too 
well  what  it  is  to  have  false  friends  not  to  appreciate 
and  welcome  the  true.  Bitter  experiences  have  taught 
me  that.  The  false  are  soon  forgotten;  they  are  almost 
obliterated  from  the  memory,  and  hold  no  place  in  the 
affections.  But  I  know  that  you  are  a  true  friend  to 
me,  because  you  are  a  true  friend  to  every  one.  And 
that  is  the  reason  why  I  spoke  as  I  did,  —  about  mak 
ing  you  some  return  for  your  kind  friendship." 

"My  reward  has  already  been  received,  as  I  told 
you,"  said  the  Doctor,  still  speaking  with  unusual  fer 
vor,  and  wholly  without  his  native  reserve.  "What 
more  can  I  ask?  I  understand  fully  what  a  small 
portion  of  your  thoughts  belongs  to  me,  and  yet,  if  you 
will  let  me,  I  will  make  it  my  greatest  aim  to  shield 
you  and  protect  you  through  every  trial  in  life.  I  will 
not  force  my  friendship  upon  you  when  others  are  more 
welcome.  I  only  ask  the  privilege  to  offer  you  a  con 
stant  refuge  in  my  friendship  if  you  should  ever  want 
it  —  ever  need  it;  for,  Lois,  strive  to  conceal  the  fact  as 
I  may,  it  will  not  remain  hidden,  —  I  care  more  for  you 
than  you  can  ever  know.  When  first  I  knew  you  I  dared 
indulge  the  strange,  new  joy  your  presence  brought  me, 
scarcely  realizing  what  it  meant.  But  there  came  a 


THE  DRIVE  UP  THE  LEAF?  GBADE.  439 

day  when  my  foolishness  was  forced  upon  me,  and  I 
awoke  to  recognize  my  true  position.  Still,  I  could  not 
cast  aside  your  influence,  and  so  I  found  my  solace  in 
wishing  for  you  all  the  sweetest  blessings  life  can  bring, 
and  hoping  perhaps  in  some  way  I  could  be  instru 
mental  in  bringing  good  to  you  by  feeling  toward  you 
as  I  did.  And  hence,  though  I  am  old  compared  to 
you,  though  my  feelings  may  scarcely  interest  you 
now,  because  my  life  has  been  as  true  and  earnest  as  I 
could  make  it  amidst  many  sorrows,  I  ask  you  to  con 
sider  me  worthy  to  be  your  friend.  And,  Lois,  when 
our  paths  shall  lead  apart,  and  by  you  all  our  old  asso 
ciations  shall  be  quite  forgotten,  if  by  some  careless 
reminder  you  ever  think  of  me,  know  that  your  bright 
image  will  lie  enshrined  in  my  heart  as  unchangeable 
as  the  solid  rock.  Then  won't  you  stop  to  feel  a  thrill 
of  pity  for  me,  —  will  you  not  send  me  some  little 
message  of  remembrance  ?  " 

He  had  entirely  broken  away  from  his  old  sensitive 
shyness,  he  had  far  overstepped  the  bounds  of  what  he 
had  meant  to  say,  and  had  poured  out  his  whole  heart 
as  if  he  could  not  bear  to  leave  one  feeling  unexpressed, 
until  checked  by  a  glance  at  Lois.  Her  face  was  cov 
ered  with  her  hands  again,  and  she  seemed  to  be  trem 
bling. 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  said  softly,  leaning  over  her.  "  I 
did  not  intend  to  grieve  you,  Lois.  I  little  thought 
that  I  should  so  far  forget  myself  as  to  offend  you  with 
such  a  recital  of  my  feelings  —  of  my  thoughts.  But 
I  shall  go  away  to-morrow,  and  if  my  hope  of  seeing 
you  again  is  sometime  realized,  try  to  forget  this  grave 
mistake  which  I  have  made,  and  think  of  me  as  if  it 


440  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

had  never  been.     Don't  you  think  you  can  forgive  me, 

Lois?" 

"I  have  nothing  to  forgive,"  she  answered,  looking 
up,  and  yet  trying  to  hide  the  traces  of  tears  on  her 
face.  She  felt  mortally  ashamed  of  them,  confused, 
and  troubled.  How  absurd  of  her,  she  thought,  to 
show  so  much  emotion,  —  she  who  always  knew  so 
well  how  to  meet  emergencies! 

"  I  am  not  displeased  with  what  you  have  said,"  she 
went  on.  "  On  the  contrary,  I  thank  you  very  much 
for  your  kind  thoughts  of  me.  Do  not  feel  that  they 
are  not  appreciated,  —  only  I  cannot  tell  you  —  I  do 
not  want  you  to  go  away  with  the  idea  that  you  have 
offended  me.  You  certainly  have  not." 

"Thank  you  for  that,"  he  said,  almost  sadly.  And 
yet  he  was  wondering  why  Lois,  usually  so  undisturbed, 
so  bright  and  strong-hearted,  allowed  her  eyes  to  be 
dimmed  by  tears  because  of  his  agitation,  —  why  she 
did  not,  by  a  few  calm  words,  in  her  own  kind  way, 
administer  a  timely  reproof  to  him  for  his  rashness,  and 
set  things  on  their  old  familiar  basis  again.  A  bright 
hope  sprang  into  life  with  the  thought. 

Why  should  he  not  say  all,  when  he  had  already 
said  so  much  ?  Perhaps  thereby  he  could  enable  her 
to  regain  her  self-command,  and  she  would  answer  him 
with  her  natural  tranquillity,  would  talk  to  him  in  her 
gentle  way,  and  soothe  his  wounded  heart;  and  per 
haps  in  what  she  said  he  might  find  some  word,  some 
touch  of  tenderness,  to  last  him  all  the  coming  years; 
and  then  perhaps  —  perhaps  —  ah !  the  simple  thought 
wrapped  him  again  in  that  uncontrollable  ecstacy  that 
made  him  fearless  in  his  hopes. 


THE   DRIVE   UP   THE   LEAFY   GRADE.  441 

"  I  am  more  than  happy  that  I  have  not  displeased 
you,  Lois,"  he  said.  "  It  would  be  almost  an  unbear 
able  pain  to  go  away  feeling  that  by  my  hasty  conduct 
I  had  forfeited  what  little  claim  I  held  upon  your 
friendship  —  your  esteem.  That  would  deprive  me  of 
the  best  joy  I  have,  —  the  pleasure  of  being  near  you." 
He  paused,  and  then,  an  almost  audacious  hope  spring 
ing  into  life  at  that  moment,  he  asked,  "  Won't  you 
allow  me  to  love  you,  and  live  my  life  near  yours,  dear 
Lois?" 

Softly  and  timidly,  very  unlike  the  bright,  self-reliant 
Lois  of  old,  came  the  answer,  "  Yes  ";  and  somehow  the 
Doctor  understood  it,  —  understood  that  it  was  meant 
to  satisfy,  not  only  his  modest  question  of  words,  but 
the  great  unexpressed  question  of  his  soul,  —  that  it 
removed  all  misunderstandings,  and  linked  their  lives 
together  forever  after. 


442  ABOUND  THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

EDWARD  DENNETT'S  FORTUNES. 

Disgrace  does  not  consist  in  the  punishment,  but  in  the  crime.  — 
ALFIERI. 

There  is  a  pleasure  sure 
In  being  mad,  which  none  but  madmen  know. 

DEYDEN. 

LET  tis  journey  far  across  the  blue,  tossing  ocean,  to 
a  foreign  land,  where  Edward  Dennett  has  taken  refuge 
from  the  sorrows  that  have  tortured  his  lacerated  heart. 
It  is  a  wild  country,  vast  and  beautiful;  but  alas,  how 
unlike  his  native  shore!  There  are  strange  people  in 
its  crowded  cities  on  the  seaboard,  swarthy  natives  from 
the  island  districts,  rough  herders,  and  excited  miners, 
sturdy,  progressive  Englishmen,  highly  satisfied  because 
they  are  on  "  Her  Majesty's  soil,"  broad-faced  Holland 
ers,  and  a  few  Americans. 

What  can  a  young  man  bred  as  a  liberal-minded 
American  do  in  such  a  strange  world?  Life  in  the 
cities  could  bring  him  no  profit,  and  so  the  broad  miles 
of  inland  country  must  yield  him  the  occupation  which 
will  help  him  to  forget  his  woes,  and  the  strange  land 
around  him.  And  again,  what  is  more  inviting  than 
the  wild,  free  woods,  which  somehow  vaguely  remind 
him  of  his  own  native  forests  of  pine? 

At  first  he  tried  the  mining  districts,  but  the  work 
was  more  than  distastful  to  his  fine  nature.  It  was  in 
the  latter  part  of  October  and  early  in  November  when 


EDWARD  DENNETT'S  FORTUNES.  443 

Edward  arrived,  and  mining  in  Australia  was  being 
largely  discontinued  on  account  of  the  hot  months,  so 
that  his  occupation  was  very  uncertain.  And  besides, 
his  associates  were  rough  men,  superior  in  their  knowl 
edge  of  local  mining,  and  he  was  obliged  to  fill  a  sub 
ordinate  position  while  earning  scarcely  more  than  his 
daily  bread.  It  was  at  this  time,  seemingly  the  darkest 
of  his  exile,  that  he  received  a  letter  from  his  mother. 
It  had  been  written  shortly  after  his  departure,  and 
arrived  on  the  steamer  that  followed  him.  In  it  there 
were  many  comforting  expressions  of  tender  love  and 
gentle  advice,  but  it  held  out  little  hope  that  she  could 
ever  join  him  in  his  new  home. 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  such  a  change,  my  son," 
she  wrote.  "I  am  growing  old,  you  know,  and  this 
home  which  has  been  mine  so  many  years  is  the  only 
spot  on  earth  where  I  could  find  contentment  and  rest. 
I  do  not  mind  the  new  position  in  which  I  am  placed; 
it  is  only  for  your  sake  I  suffer,  so  do  not  reproach  your 
self  that  your  misfortune  has  spoiled  my  home  for  me. 
I  shall  ever  live  in  the  strongest  hope  that  your  name 
will  be  cleansed  of  all  dishonor,  and  that  you  will 
some  time  come  back  to  me,  my  dear  son,  and  to  this 
old  home  where  the  bright  years  of  your  childhood  were 
passed.  Be  brave,  be  strong,  and  wait.  It  will  surety 
come."  Edward  could  not  suppress  a  sigh.  He  loved 
his  mother  very  tenderly,  and  keenly  felt  the  disap 
pointment  of  his  hope  to  see  her  kindly  face  in  his  utter 
loneliness.  But  then  the  thought  came  to  him  of  his 
poor  mother  severing  the  ties  which  a  quarter  of  a  cen 
tury  had  formed  around  her  home,  and  the  utter  aim- 
lessness  of  her  life  in  a  foreign  land;  and  he  bravely  gaid 


444  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

to  himself,  "  She  is  right;  this  is  no  place  for  her  in  her 
declining  years."  At  the  last  there  had  been  a  touch 
of  joy  for  him.  It  was  Mabel's  message.  Mrs.  Dennett 
carefully  wrote  every  word  of  comfort  she  could  call  to 
mind,  in  her  description  of  Mabel's  departure,  and  at 
last  described  the  farewell  at  the  gate,  and  Mabel's 
parting  words,  —  "  Tell  him  when  at  last  he  reaches  home 
my  love  will  be  waiting  for  him  there."  Strong  man 
that  he  was,  the  letter  fluttered  from  his  grasp.  He 
could  never  more  think  of  an  earthly  home,  he  could 
never  expect  to  look  into  Mabel's  face  again.  Ah! 
could  he  do  his  part  without  one  struggle  to  obtain 
those  earthly  comforts,  devoid  of  which  the  smoothest 
path  through  life  is  hard  indeed? 

For  a  time  that  thought  of  Mabel  sustained  him.  In 
untiring  toil  he  wore  away  the  sharpness  of  his  trouble, 
taking  a  strange  comfort  out  of  the  vague,  shadowy 
hope  of  the  fulfilment  of  his  dreams  in  another  world. 
It  was  well  for  him  that  such  a  stray  wave  of  com 
fort  tided  him  over  the  most  treacherous  rocks  of  his 
voyage.  After  a  time  he  grew  accustomed  to  his  work 
and  surroundings  and  hopeless  loneliness,  and  he  could 
look  with  clearer  vision  into  his  future  years,  and  feel 
somewhat  reconciled  to  the  cruel  fate  that  so  tortured 
him. 

His  adversities  should  not  altogether  discourage  him; 
bereft  of  home  and  friends,  an  exile  to  a  foreign  coun 
try,  where  every  face  that  looked  into  his  seemed 
strange  and  cold,  there  was  still  something  left  for 
him  to  do.  He  was  a  man  still,  — let  them  call  him 
fiend  as  they  would;  and  he  had  a  work  before  him,  a 
long  life  to  use  for  the  sake  of  that  mother  far  away, 


EDWARD  DENNETT'S  FORTUNES.  445 

for  the  sake  of  that  dear  friend  whom  he  could  never 
hope  to  see  again.  He  must  live  worthy  of  their  mem 
ory.  Out  of  a  new  life  and  strange  surroundings  he 
must  fashion  his  path,  bearing  up  against  new  dis 
couragements  if  they  met  him,  striving  bravely  on 
ward  to  win  at  least  the  reward  of  a  life  well  lived. 

Fortune  favored  him  after  a  month  or  so  spent  in  the 
mines.  He  fell  in  with  a  party  of  trappers,  and  found 
an  opportunity  to  change  his  mode  of  life  by  sharing 
their  labors.  But  their  pursuit  led  them  away  into 
wild,  unsettled  districts,  so  that  although  Edward  felt 
that  his  lot  was  growing  better,  there  was  still  one  dis 
advantage,  he  could  receive  no  news  from  his  far-off 
home.  Their  constant  travel  and  ever-shifting  camps 
made  it  very  uncertain  where  their  letters  could  be 
sent,  and  Edward  found  no  opportunity  to  return  to 
the  mines,  where  his  mail  had  been  directed.  With 
every  touch  on  civilization,  he  sent  a  letter  to  his 
mother.  But  he  never  received  an  answer  from  his 
anxious  messages. 

The  days  slipped  by,  and  still  he  patiently  hoped  and 
waited  for  the  long-delayed  news  that  would  come  like 
a  picture  of  another  life  into  his  desolate  existence. 

But  time  had  made  him  strong  to  bear  his  hard 
ships,  and  it  was  well  for  him,  for  after  the  elapse  of 
two  or  three  months  there  came  another  trial,  more 
severe  than  all,  in  which  his  new  strength  served  him 
well.  It  came  in  the  form  of  an  artful  letter  from  Nellie 
Minton,  which  by  some  chance  had  reached  him.  She 
had  obtained  his  address  by  a  little  stratagem  practised 
on  his  mother,  and  could  not  resist  the  desire  to  write 
to  him,  offering  her  sympathy  and  regret  for  his  ban- 


446  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

ishment.  There  were  divers  hints  about  the  fire,  and 
little  pleasantries  which  made  his  heart  a  good  deal 
lighter,  until  he  reached  the  part  where  she  had  at 
tempted  to  write  him  a  word  of  news.  He  wondered 
blindly,  as  he  read  it,  how  that  terrible  intelligence 
could  be  written  in  the  same  careful,  lady-like  hand  as 
other  parts  of  the  letter;  why  it  was  that  a  hand  which 
could  send  him  such  a  cruel  blow  did  not  tremble 
slightly,  out  of  pity  for  his  pain.  George  was  dead, 
she  had  learned  from  friends  in  Locustville,  who  were 
slightly  agitated  over  the  occurrence.  She  had  not 
heard  anything  further  about  it, — not  even  the  cause 
of  his  death.  Edward  shuddered  as  he  read  the  line. 

Alas  that  George,  who  had  been  his  bitterest  foe, 
should  end  his  career  and  leave  his  victim  suffering 
still,  when  all  earth's  allurements  perish  with  the  clos 
ing  of  the  grave!  It  seemed  hard  indeed  to  Edward. 
What  purpose  did  it  serve  to  George  that  his  victim 
should  always  bear  the  condemnation  of  his  own 
wrong? 

He  continued  with  his  letter,  only  to  find  something 
more  bitter  still.  "I  presume  you  have  not  heard 
much  from  Mabel  since  she  left  Lucky  Streak,"  Nellie 
wrote.  "  Neither  have  I.  She  seems  to  have  forgotten 
her  old  friends,  by  such  long  silence;  but  then,  you 
know,  mamma  and  I  live  so  quietly  here  in  our  home 
in  the  city  that  perhaps  we  do  not  seem  quite  fashion 
able  enough  to  suit  her  tastes.  Her  aunt  is  very  am 
bitious  for  her.  Since  their  return  I  have  heard  that 
they  undertook  a  journey  to  the  East  on  some  society 
call  or  other.  And  of  course  Mabel  is  happy;  for  not 
withstanding  their  severe  losses  of  property  in  the  past 


EDWARD  DENNETT'S  FORTUNES.  447 

year  the  report  is  spreading  that  she  has  succeeded 
in  securing  a  very  wealthy  suitor.  Well,  that  is  not 
strange.  She  is  a  very  pretty  girl,  and  such  usually 
strive  to  use  their  personal  advantages  for  worldly 
advancement.  For  my  part,  I  am  thoroughly  glad  to 
hear  it.  She  was  not  a  girl  who  could  endure  poverty 
of  any  description,  although  she  was  brave  enough  to 
think  so  when  at  first  threatened  with  it.  I  trust  by 
this  time  you  have  ceased  to  think  of  her.  (Forgive 
me,  if  by  this  I  seem  to  be  intruding  into  your  private 
affairs,  but  of  course,  being  a  friend — a  disinterested 
friend — of  both  of  you,  I  could  not  help  observing  the 
course  of  matters.)  Mabel  is  at  heart  a  very  good, 
sweet  girl,  but  she  is  human,  not  quite  divine,  as  you 
seemed  to  think  her  once.  She  told  me  herself  that 
she  never  expected  to  see  you  again,  and  this,  with  her 
aunt's  influence,  better  explains  why  she  so  quickly 
forgot  you.  There  was  no  use  clinging  to  a  dead  senti 
ment,  when  the  joys  of  life  were  inviting  her  from  every 
hand.  Of  course  we  cannot  blame  her,  when  she 
chose  a  future  of  ease  and  comfort  to  the  prospect  of 
nursing  a  memory  in  obscurity.  If  you  had  been 
prosperous,  her  fancy  for  you  might  have  continued; 
as  it  is,  the  frail  thing  perished,  and  another  sprang 
up.  Such  a  girl  as  she  must  live  in  sunshine, — there 
is  no  such  thing  as  gloominess  to  her  bright  nature. 
It  should  not  matter  so  much  if  her  sentiments  are 
fleeting;  they  are  pleasant  for  the  time.  After  she  is 
gone,  one  sees  how  shallow  they  were,  and  yet  escapes 
the  sting  they  might  have  left,  because  they  were  so 
short-lived.  Her  prospective  future  is  the  best  possible 
one  for  her;  a  rich  husband,  such  as  her  betrothed  will 


448  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN    DEEP. 

make,  cares  most  for  a  pretty  wife,  and  if  her  fancy  is 
only  light,  he  can  renew  it  every  time  he  buys  her  a 
little  present,  or  humors  her  in  some  simple,  girlish 
whim. 

"  The  wedding  is  to  take  place  in  the  spring, — in 
March,  I  understand.  One  hears  so  many  reports 
about  such  a  thing,  I  really  do  not  know  whether  I 
ought  to  forbear  to  tell  you  that  Mabel  is  extremely 
happy,  and  has  declared  her  brightest  hopes  fulfilled 
in  the  affection  of  the  man  she  has  chosen. 

"  All  this  I  have  written,  feeling  quite  assured  that 
your  admiration  for  her  has  so  diminished  with  time 
that  you  have  come  to  realize  her  character  better, 
and  will  rejoice  over  her  good  fortune.  I  am  sure  I 
should,  if  it  were  only  for  gratitude,  because  she  ac 
companied  me  to  Lucky  Streak  last  summer,  where  I 
passed  one  of  the  most  pleasurable  seasons  of  my  life, 
among  my  old-time  friends  and  the  scenes  of  my 
childhood. 

"  I  cannot  help  expressing  the  satisfaction  I  feel  in 
hearing  that  you  will  soon  return  home,  because  of  my 
love  for  your  mother  and  my  friendship  for  yourself. 
I  am  greatly  rejoiced  to  hear  that  your  troubles  are 
over." 

With  the  reading  of  that  letter  Edward's  comfort 
and  trust  in  Mabel's  affection  perished  in  spite  of 
himself.  He  felt  assured  that  Nellie  was  striving,  for 
gome  reason  or  other,  to  poison  his  mind  against 
Mabel,  and  yet  she  certainly  must  have  truthfully 
reported'  Mabel's  expected  marriage.  Nellie  was  too 
cunning  ever  to  manufacture  such  a  thing  without  a 
foundation  of  truth.  If  Mabel  could  forget  him  in  a 


449 

few  short  months,  and  their  mutual  promises  of  unend 
ing  affection,  or  if  she  could  marry  without  loving  her 
husband,  he  felt  that  he  had  been  sadly  mistaken  in 
her.  The  scales  seemed  to  fall  from  his  eyes.  At  the 
first  he  had  not  dared  to  trust  her.  Alas!  love  had 
made  him  blind, — totally  blind,  until  too  late  to  save 
himself! 

But  there  had  been  something  in  Nellie's  missive 
which  was  very  perplexing.  He  could  not  compre 
hend  why  she  had  referred  to  his  visit  home,  when  he 
had  never  hoped  for  such  a  thing.  He  did  not  know 
that  the  good  news  which  had  never  reached  him  was 
already  old  to  Nellie,  or  that  her  letter  would  never 
have  been  written  but  for  his  good  fortune.  He  could 
not  surmise  that  she  had  grossly  exaggerated  an  un 
certain  report  concerning  Mabel,  to  serve  immediately 
her  own  schemes.  After  vainly  studying  over  it,  he 
concluded  to  let  the  matter  rest. 

Ah!  those  weary  days  that  followed!  Edward 
scarcely  realized  how  much  hope  he  had  placed  in 
Mabel's  love  until  he  had  to  give  it  up.  All  through 
his  hardest  struggles  it  had  sustained  and  cheered 
him.  But  he  had  now  no  sweet  and  unsullied  memo 
ries,  except  those  of  his  mother. 

After  a  few  more  weeks  of  waiting  and  suspense, 
Edward  at  length  decided  to  start  for  one  of  the  large 
cities  on  the  coast,  and  there  await  his  mother's  an 
swer,  which  he  had  requested  should  be  directed  there. 
He  felt  that  she  was  all  he  had  left, — only  one,  his 
dear  mother,  remained  true  to  her  poor,  unfortunate 
boy.  He  clung  to  the  solace  which  that  love  gave  him 
with  a  desperation  akin  to  madness. 


450  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

On  his  way  to  the  city  he  went  to  the  mining  camp 
where  he  had  first  found  employment.  There,  in  the 
dingy  little  office,  the  postmaster  handed  him  a  for 
eign  letter,  which  made  his  heart  beat  wildly  with 
both  hope  and  fear.  It  was  from  his  mother,  and  she 
was  well,  he  hastily  gleaned  as  he  opened  it,  and  then 
he  more  calmly  read  the  letter. 

MY  BEAR  SON  EDWARD,  — 

Your  constant  letters  bring  me  comfort,  but  since  I  have  been 
hoping  for  your  i-eturn,  the  weeks  are  endless,  and  each  day  closes 
in  a  bitter  disappoia'oment  because  you  have  not  arrived.  Pardon 
rny  impatience.  It  results  from  the  longing  of  a  mother's  heart. 

My  yearning  breast  schools  itself  to  quietness  by  the  conscious 
ness  of  your  comparative  comfort  during  the  few  remaining  days 
which  you  must  spend  in  exile,  for  the  first  letter  that  reaches  you 
will  toll  you  of  your  good  fortune. 

My  con,  I  cannot  forbear  thinking  that  some  of  those  letters  with 
their  "  tidings  of  great  joy  "  must  have  been  received,  and  that  you 
are  even  now  homeward  bound.  The  proof  of  your  innocence  all 
came  about  through  our  dear  little  friend,  Lois  Warren.  A  friend 
of  hers,  Dr.  Knapp,  has  charge  of  the  hospital  at  Tenayee,  where 
George  Brooklyn  took  refuge;  for  he  was  terribly  burned  that  night 
of  the  fire,  and  besides,  as  the  result  of  his  wounds  and  the  exposure 
to  which  he  was  subjected  while  making  his  escape  from  Lucky 
Streak,  he  contracted  a  fever  which  proved  fatal.  It  seems  that  he 
Was  once  an  admirer  of  Lois,  and  Dr.  Knapp,  being  Lois's  warm 
friend,  took  an  unusual  interest  in  him.  Thus  it  came  about  that 
he  made  a  dying  confession  of  his  guilt  to  the  Doctor,  since  he  com 
mitted  the  crime  for  which  you  have  been  so  cruelly  banished.  He 
gave  Dr.  Knapp  papers  which  substantiate  your  innocence,  but  I 
dare  not  send  them  for  fear  of  their  miscarriage.  But  come  home 
and  receive  these  precious  documents  from  the  hand  of  your  mother, 
and  read  your  welcome  in  the  faces  of  all  your  old  friends. 

I  am  going  to  tell  you  some  news.  A  queer  little  cart,  drawn 
slowly  along  by  a  pretty  cream-white  horse,  stopped  before  our  door 
one  afternoon,  and  I  was  surprised  to  see  the  same  bright  little  Lois 
of  long  ago  spring  out,  assisted  by  a  stout,  dignified  personage  whom 


451 

she  introduced  as  Dr.  Knapp.  They  broke  the  joyful  news  they 
brought  me  with  studied  delicacy.  The  Doctor  has  such  a  kind  face 
and  manner  that  I  was  glad  to  see  the  warmest  friendship  existed 
between  them,  and  when  he  told  me  that  Lois  had  only  that  morning 
promised  to  become  his  wife,  we  all  had  reason  to  rejoice  tog  other. 
Practical,  energetic  little  Lois  blushed  like  a  rose  when  I  kissed  her, 
after  my  congratulations  to  the  Doctor,  and  this  explained  the  soft 
brightness  of  her  bluebell  eyes,  which  usually  are  so  merry  and 
shrewd,  you  recollect. 

They  stayed  to  dinner,  but  I  could  not  prevail  upon  them  to  make 
me  a  longer  visit,  so  they  drove  off  again  about  sunset.  I  suppose 
the  prospect  of  a  long  moonlight  drive  was  too  tempting  under  the 
circumstances.  They  were  going  clear  down  to  Robinson's,  —  for 
Lois  was  home  several  weeks  on  a  visit.  I  shall  never  forget  her 
little  farewell  wave  of  the  hand,  as  she  smiled  back  at  me  in  the 
rich  golden  glow  of  the  waning  light.  She  is  a  sweet  girl,  Edward, 
one  whom  I  have  long  loved.  Her  frequent  visits  here  before  she 
went  to  teaching  were  a  great  delight  to  me,  as  you  know.  But  I 
had  almost  grown  reconciled  to  her  absence  when  Mabel  Willis 
came,  though  I  fear  Mabel,  with  all  her  charming  ways,  has  not  the 
deep  feeling  and  constancy  which  make  Lois  such  a  blessing  to  all 
who  love  her. 

I  have  not  received  a  line  from  Mabel  since  she  left.  Still,  re 
membering  her  sweet,  artless  ways,  we  will  not  think  ill  of  her. 
Her  aunt  may  have  been  displeased,  and  you  know  it  would  be  un 
wise  to  scorn  the  opportunities  the  world  offers  to  one  so  fair  as 
Mabel. 

In  Mrs.  Dennett's  letter  there  was  a  brief  account  of 
an  occurrence  which  merits  a  fuller  description. 

Ever  since  Edward  Dennett's  departure,  trusty,  faith 
ful,  old  Mike  Logan  had  been  over  to  see  to  things  at 
the  Dennett  place  every  day,  after  his  work-hours  at 
the  mine,  and  his  watchful  care  extended  to  the  ex 
hausted  claim  of  the  Golden  Deep.  When  opportunity 
permitted,  Mr.  Logan  would  wend  his  way  over  the 
quiet  hills  to  this  lonely  retreat,  and  spend  hours  in 


452  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

the  dark,  silent  rooms  where  the  rusting  machinery 
and  gloomy  solitude  spoke  to  him  in  a  welcome  lan 
guage  of  the  half-forgotten  past.  He  was  given  to 
brooding,  in  those  days,  over  his  lost  Nita,  and  the 
hopeless  loneliness  and  desertion  of  these  once  busy 
scenes  seemed  in  accord  with  his  grief. 

One  day  as  he  passed  the  old  town  on  his  way  he 
caught  sight  of  a  latticed  arbor  with  its  falling  rafters 
entwined  by  a  luxurious  climbing  rose  running  wild 
and  rank  in  its  unregarded  growth  over  the  decaying 
supports.  A  vision  of  Nita  in  her  babyhood,  which 
seemed  to  him  but  yesterday,  holding  out  her  tiny 
hands  for  clusters  of  the  same  bright  flowers  that  were 
budding  out  so  crisply  now,  came  before  his  eyes,  and 
made  them  dim  with  sorrow. 

Hastily  he  turned  his  back  upon  the  place  to  control 
his  grief.  What  would  he  have  thought  could  he  have 
known  that  beneath  that  vine  in  the  moisture  rusted 
the  small,  glittering  dagger  which  she  had  dropped 
when  the  fierce  purpose  of  a  blind  vengeance  had  been 
subdued  by  Mabel's  tears? 

The  dash  of  fire  and  restless  ambition  in  Nita's 
character  had  always  been  a  blank  to  her  father; 
and  even  her  husband,  John  Gloucester,  never  fully 
comprehended  it.  He  had  become  a  son  to  Mike 
Logan,  who  learned  to  love  his  daughter's  husband  for 
her  sake.  The  young  man  had  wept  with  deep  sorrow 
for  her  loss,  and  to  her  reported  errors  his  ear  was 
almost  deaf,  for  his  heart  was  still  clinging  to  the 
romantic  attachment  he  had  formed  for  her,  and  he 
excused  every  fault  on  the  ground  of  youth  and  child 
ish  innocence.  So  it  was,  to  those  who  loved  her,  that 


EDWARD  DENNETT'S  FORTUNES.  453 

the  memory  of  poor,  unfortunate  Nita  savored  of  a  per 
fume  like  the  rare  fragrance  that  exhaled  from  those 
brilliant  wild  roses. 

On  this  quiet  sabbath  morning  in  the  early  spring 
the  poor  fellow  wandered  out  to  the  abandoned  mill, 
and  after  making  his  usual  tour  of  inspection,  sat  down 
on  an  old  pile  of  crumbling  rock  to  muse  and  dream. 
It  was  a  perfect  day,  just  when  the  new  life  of  trees 
and  flowers  seemed  budding  forth  under  the  sunbeams 
that  grow  warm  with  coming  spring,  and  he  was  far 
more  contented  and  happy  than  he  had  been  for  many 
a  day.  His  thoughts,  instead  of  brooding  over  his 
lost  Nita,  returned  to  the  days  when  the  old  mine  was 
in  its  glory,  and  that  slender  oar  of  gold  above  the 
mill  looked  to  him,  hurrying  through  the  dews  each 
morning  to  his  work,  like  an  emblem  of  marvellous 
wealth  beneath  the  soil.  He  could  scarcely  realize 
how  suddenly  the  profitable  workings  had  failed  and 
the  mine  had  been  closed. 

He  was  looking  thoughtfully  up  at  the  queer  little 
weather-vane,  outlined  against  the  emerald  hills  be 
yond,  and  wondering  how  it  had  kept  so  bright  through 
the  storms  of  many  winters,  when  suddenly  the  ground 
appeared  to  rise  under  his  feet.  Then  the  decaying 
walls  of  the  old  mill  began  to  shake  and  sway  before 
his  stunned  senses.  The  air  was  rent  by  a  sound  as 
muffled  and  awful  as  if  a  score  of  thunder-bolts  had 
broken  in  the  deep  galleries  of  the  mine  beneath.  The 
sound  swelled  out,  reverberating  through  the  mountains 
and  along  the  gorges,  echoing  and  re-echoing,  until  the 
stillness  that  followed  contrasted  itself  with  the  great 
voice  that  had  gone  forth,  and  made  it  seem  still  more 
terrific. 


454  ABOUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

After  considerable  speculation  about  earthquakes 
and  the  explosion  of  gases,  he  at  last  concluded  that  it 
must  have  been  caused  by  the  caving  of  one  of  the  in 
clines,  and  later  on  he  felt  an  uncontrollable  curiosity 
to  pry  into  the  secret. 

He  started  for  Lucky  Streak,  where  he  told  his  story 
to  the  crowds  of  idlers  in  the  saloons,  but  it  only  excited 
loud  bursts  of  laughter  from  the  incredulous  miners, 
who  attributed  the  sound  to  some  blast  from  a  neighbor 
ing  mine.  At  last,  after  he  had  interrupted  the  interest 
in  the  games  of  cards,  he  prevailed  upon  a  dozen  or  more 
of  the  miners  to  go.  They  set  out  well  provided  with 
ropes  and  chains  for  the  repair  of  the  cage  at  the  mine, 
but  afternoon  had  begun  to  cast  its  shadows  over  the 
eastward  slopes  of  the  pine-wrapped  hills  before  they 
had  ascertained  that  the  old  machinery  was  in  perfect 
working  order. 

When  all  was  in  readiness,  four  men,  Logan  among 
them,  took  their  places  in  the  cage,  and  were  slowly 
lowered  into  the  well-like  winze  of  the  mine.  At  every 
foot  of  the  descent  a  pause  was  made,  until  a  shout 
from  the  men  gave  the  order  to  go  ahead.  It  was  a 
dangerous  piece  of  work,  they  all  knew,  for  another 
explosion  might  occur,  or  the  walls  might  bury  them 
under  crumbling  heaps  of  earth  and  rock,  and  they 
who  worked  the  machinery  at  the  top  looked  down 
with  feelings  of  awe  and  wonder  upon  the  flickering 
torches  that  made  weird  shadows  around  the  little 
party  far  below  in  the  deep  shaft. 

At  length  a  shout  from  the  dim  underground  cave 
called  u  Halt,"  and  the  men  had  reached  the  first  level. 
As  Logan  sprang  out  of  the  cage,  he  stumbled  over  a 
little  mound  of  rocks,  from  the  top  of  which  a  small 


EDWARD  DENNETT'S  FORTUNES.  455 

pocket-book  fell.  He  picked  it  up,  examined  it  to  find 
that  it  was  closely  written  through  with  lead-pencil, 
and  placed  it  in  his  pocket  unnoticed.  After  a  few  pre 
cautions,  and  experiments  for  choke-damp  with  their 
torches,  the  other  men  started  boldly  out  on  a  tour  of 
investigation,  singing  gayly  a  queer  old  song,  that  an 
swered  back  in  soft,  musical  echoes  from  every  passage 
way  and  drift. 

They  were  fearless  fellows,  who  worked  underground 
at  Lucky  Streak,  and  felt  no  fear  of  earthy  rooms;  while 
Logan  was  a  mill-hand  whose  experience  was  limited 
in  such  matters,  so  his  nerves  were  quite  unstrung  for 
a  time,  and  he  continually  gave  warnings  to  the  others 
about  being  too  venturesome.  "I'll  be  hanged  if  I 
don't  smell  powder,"  said  one  miner,  a  middle-aged 
man,  sniffing  the  air,  and  cautiously  peering  about. 
"  I  wonder  if  there  hain't  been  an  explosion.  I  once 
hearn  old  man  Dennett  say,  —  peace  to  his  ashes!  he 
was  n't  much  like  the  bad  weed  of  that  name  who  fol- 
lered  him,  —  he  once  told  me  that  a  big  lot  of  gun 
powder  was  left  in  here  after  the  closing  of  the  mine. 
It  was  said  to  be  damaged,  and  they  did  n't  have  no 
use  for  it,  so  they  left  it  be.  I  recollect  it,  because  a 
lot  of  us  had  a  notion  of  taking  it  for  ourselves,  but 
we  finally  gave  it  up." 

"  Drat  my  heart!  I  smell  it,  too,"  said  another,  grow 
ing  more  excited.  a  We  'd  better  wheel  in  and  get  the 
cage  ready  to  go  back.  There  might  be  a  right  smart 
of  that  thar  stuff  here  that  '11  blaze  away  afore  we  get 
out,  anyway." 

"Be  aisy,  boys!"  said  Logan.  "Yez  nadent  be  in 
such  a  rush.  We  '11  go  slow,  and  foind  the  thing  now 
we  're  down." 


456  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

Into  the  long,  dark  drifts  the  red  light  of  the  smoking 
torches  pierced,  resting  now  a  moment  on  some  brown, 
damp,  jutting  rock,  then  sparkling  in  fitful  ripples  on 
the  black  water  pools  underfoot,  or  glancing  along  some 
swollen  timber  or  broken  pipe.  The  miners  at  last 
grew  discouraged  in  their  slow,  toilsome  search,  and 
only  groped  carefully  about,  looking  part  way  into  the 
musty  drifts,  from  which  even  the  damp,  poisoned  air 
seemed  almost  exhausted,  and  always  keeping  near 
the  cage,  till  Logan,  frightened  and  inexperienced  as 
he  was,  in  his  eager  desire  to  fathom  the  mystery,  felt 
compelled  to  take  the  lead. 

At  length,  over  on  one  side  of  the  mine,  he  discovered 
a  dark  passage-way,  which  looked  at  a  distance  as  if  it 
had  been  filled  up  with  dirt  and  rubbish.  On  going 
nearer,  and  steadying  as  much  as  possible  the  flicker 
ing  flame  of  his  torch,  he  could  see  that  a  heavy  clod 
was  slowly  rolling  down  the  side  of  the  earth  mound, 
and  that  a  sprinkling  of  fresh  dirt  covered  the  ground 
around  him.  Carefully  he  ventured  forward  toward 
the  mysterious  corner,  calling  to  his  companions  to 
follow  him,  until  at  last  lie  stood  near  the  passage-way, 
where  the  walls  had  been  ploughed  into  a  mass  of 
moist,  powdered  earth,  where  a  ledge  cropping  out  of 
the  wall  was  crumbled,  and  huge  masses  of  rock,  cleft 
in  twain,  hung  over  fissures  freshly  torn  out  of  solid 
walls,  and  where  flinty  splinters  scattered  about  bore 
witness  that  some  mighty  blast  had  rent  the  strong 
foundations  of  the  earth. 

"It's  the  powder,"  whispered  the  elder  miner,  draw 
ing  back.  "You  know,  Logan,  that  was  the  place 
where  they  used  to  put  it  first,''  he  continued,  pointing 


EDWARD  DENNETT'S  FORTUNES.  457 

toward  the  mass  of  debris  in  the  drift.  Most  of  the 
men  started  back,  muttering  something  about  another 
explosion,  but  Logan,  dropping  on  one  knee  by  the 
shivered  ledge  of  rock,  picked  out  a  piece  of  broken 
quartz  and  examined  it  critically  by  the  glare  of  bis 
torch. 

"  Begorra,  boys!  "  he  cried  quickly.  "It 's  gold  I  'm 
after  foinding  here";  and  he  held  up  the  broken  rock 
in  a  frenzy  of  excitement.  The  miners  pressed  nearer, 
and  took  the  precious  stone  from  Logan's  trembling 
hands.  Yes,  there  surely  was  a  streak  of  gold  embed 
ded  in  the  hard,  glittering  quartz;  and  lo!  on  the  other 
side,  a  great  nugget,  at  one  end  flattened  from  a  fan  of 
gleaming,  lacy  network  into  a  soft,  dim  mass  of  heavy 
yellow  metal.  Eager  hands  tore  at  the  ledge,  and  loud 
ejaculations  echoed  away  into  the  dim  recesses  of  the 
mine,  as  yellow  veins  were  laid  open,  showing  glinting, 
fern-like  sprays,  soft,  thin,  shiny  flakes,  and  rich,  round 
nuggets,  lying  in  the  midst  of  long  spikes  and  spar 
kling  grains,  all  hiding  in  the  warm  heart  of  the  dull, 
brown  earth.  Thoughts  came  too  fast  for  words,  while 
the  miners,  heedless  of  scratches  and  bruises  from  the 
sharp  rocks,  burrowed  into  the  open  fissure  until  the 
last  gold-gemmed  stone  was  loosened,  and  the  precious 
harvest  lay  heaped  in  an  open,  cradle-like  section  of 
broken  pipe  behind  them. 

No  fear  they  felt  of  a  second  blast  in  the  face  of  that 
glorious  treasure.  They  were  even  desperate  to  dive 
farther;  and  one  man,  seizing  a  piece  of  wood  from 
the  wrecked  timber  supports,  plunged  it  with  all  his 
strength  into  the  harrowed  pile  of  earth  and  broken 
rock  at  the  closed  mouth  of  the  drift.  Others  followed 


458  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

his  example,  until  the  little  force  were  furiously  scat 
tering  damp  clods  in  all  directions,  and  loose  stones 
that  gave  a  promise  of  golden  worth  were  tossed  care 
lessly  behind  them  into  a  pile  for  future  examination. 
Even  the  loose,  crumbled  soil  seemed  heavy  and  rich 
with  that  golden  shower,  and  each  stroke  of  their  sticks 
seemed  to  the  half-crazed  men  about  to  open  a  pocket 
lined  with  sheets  of  solid  gold. 

At  length,  in  the  midst  of  that  wild  confusion,  one 
stopped  and  looked  earnestly  at  something  white,  half 
buried  in  the  mound  before  them.  The  others  paused 
a  moment  to  look  also,  and  one  gave  it  a  push  with 
his  piece"  of  board.  It  was  no  rock,  that  soft  white 
thing;  it  was  not  stiffened  paper,  so  wrinkled  yet  so 
firm.  Was  it — yes,  surely, — oh,  horrible,  ghastly 
sight! — it  was  a  human  hand  severed  from  the  body, 
pale,  and  stained  with  earth,  convulsively  stretched 
wide  open,  and  stiffened  in  that  strange  position. 
"Holy  Virgin!"  cried  Logan,  blessing  himself  and 
throwing  down  his  stick.  "It's  graves  we 're  digging 
into,  boys,  and  it's  bad  luck  we'll  get  of  it  all." 

One  miner  lifted  the  terrible  thing  into  the  air, 
while  from  it  dangled  long,  pearly  tendons  and  pieces 
of  mangled  flesh.  A  profound  silence  fell  over  the 
little  party,  and  for  some  moments  no  word  was  ut 
tered,  and  no  sound  broke  the  awful  stillness,  until 
one  miner  said,  in  a  loud,  strained  voice,  "  Let 's  look 
closer;  what's  that  on  the  finger?"  Sure  enough, 
there  was  a  ring  on  one  of  the  shrunken  fingers,  a 
pretty  cameo  ring,  delicate,  yet  richly  carved  in  an 
tique  fashion;  and  with  one  accord  the  miners  looked 
into  each  other's  faces  and  said  softly,  "Knowlcs!" 


EDWARD  DENNETT'S  FORTUNES.  459 

"  He  was  getting  crazier  every  day,"  said  one.  "  Some 
thing  '11  come  out  yet.  He  helped  Brooklyn  with  the 
fire,  we  can  be  mighty  certain  from  the  looks  of  things. 
He  never  acted  straight  after  it;  and  I  've  been  a-lookin' 
for  suthin'  like  this  here  to  happen  every  day." 

"He's  been  doing  penance,  the  poor  divil!"  said 
Logan.  "And  mighty  good  penance  it  was!  "  he  added, 
pointing  to  the  ore  heap,  to  explain  his  ghastly  joke; 
and  thinking  of  the  book  in  his  pocket,  he  suggested 
that  they  search  no  farther  until  they  had  gone  above 
ground  to  report  their  discovery  of  the  body  and  Ed 
ward  Dennett's  newly  found  fortune.  The  proposition 
was  readily  accepted,  so  anxious  were  the  miners  to 
disclose  their  strange  story;  and  so,  loading  themselves 
with  their  golden  treasures,  they  seated  themselves 
again  in  the  cage,  and  shouted  for  the  men  at  the  top 
to  "  Hoist  away."  What  wonder  that  excitement  ran 
high  when  the  miners  neared  the  top  of  the  winze  and 
shouted  up  their  great  discoveries?  It  was  almost 
past  belief,  until  the  glittering  quartz  was  displayed, 
with  its  golden  seams  and  nuggets;  and  the  men, 
once  more  upon  the  green,  bright  surface  of  the  earth, 
started  breathlessly  toward  the  town  with  their  won 
derful  story  about  the  Golden  Deep. 

That  night  in  Mrs.  Dennett's  library  the  strange 
pocket-book  was  read.  On  the  fly-leaf  it  bore  the 
name  of  James  P.  Knowlcs,  and  on  the  first  few  pages 
some  unimportant  accounts  were  set  down,  while  far 
ther  over  on  the  last  blank  leaves  a  strange  diary  had 
been  kept  of  a  day's  experience  in  the  mine.  After 
the  Doctor's  visit  to  Mr.  Sevenoakes,  Knowlcs  had 


460  AROUND   THE    GOLDEN   DEEP. 

gradually  lost  his  mind,  becoming  morbidly  fearful 
that  the  secret  of  his  crime  would  be  divulged.  Mr. 
Sevenoakes  had  repeatedly  assured  him  of  his  safety, 
and  advised  him  to  leave  the  scenes  around  Lucky 
Streak  forever,  with  the  resolution  to  retrieve  his  evil 
life  in  a  more  friendly  locality,  but  the  poor  wretch  had 
persistently  refused.  It  was  supposed  that  in  an  insane 
freak  he  had  wandered  over  to  the  Golden  Deep,  and 
had  formed  the  resolution  to  explore  the  mysteries  of 
the  shaft.  He  had  lowered  himself  into  its  black 
depths,  and  when  he  had  reached  the  floor  of  the  first 
level,  hoisted  the  cage  empty  to  the  top  again,  leaving 
himself  hopelessly  imprisoned  in  a  living  tomb. 

The  diary  in  the  pocket-book  explained  somewhat 
the  terrible  hallucination  which  had  caused  him  to  ex 
plode  the  blasting-powder. 

March  10th. 

Oh  what  joy!  My  first  impulse  after  thanking  Heaven  is  to  write 
of  the  great  peace  I  feel  that  I  may  at  least  die  in  the  light.  Though 
I  have  no  hope  of  deliverance,  and  perhaps  no  one  may  ever  pene 
trate  to  my  dark  underground  tomb  until  both  thb  record  and  I 
shall  have  been  dissolved  to  earth,  yet  my  wild  brain  must  find 
some  relief,  and  I  will  write  to  give  to  the  explorer  after  the  world's 
great  motor  —  gold  —  something,  though  naught  but  a  dead  and  un- 
speaking  wail  of  a  human  brother  who  lived  and  suffered  and  per 
ished  long  ago. 

I  must  explain  how  I  came  here.  But  my  brain  is  clouded;  my 
thoughts  whirl  around  like  a  vast  wheel,  so  fast  that  I  can  catch 
nothing  until  at  last  it  stops,  and  I  see  everything  plain,  and  its 
tangled  shape  is  made  perfect  again;  but  alas!  the  next  moment  all 
is  lost,  and  I  am  weakly  striving  to  remember  and  understand,  while 
nothing  rewards  me  but  the  consciousness  that  I  am  a  human  being 
shut  up  in  a  deep,  chill  cave  far  under  the  earth,  and  my  wildest 
screams  can  only  waken  dull,  hollow  echoes  from  its  terrible  gal 
leries. 

Let  me  collect  my  thoughts.     It  seoms  years  ago  that  one  pleas- 


461 

ant  day  I  came  to  this  mine  —  we  called  it  the  Golden  Deep  —  on  an 
investigating  exploration.  I  descended  to  the  first  level,  —  there  are 
two,  and  the  lower  one  is  partly  filled  with  water,  —  and  began  ex 
ploring  about  until  I  came  to  a  corner  dug  out,  which  was  shut  away 
from  the  rest  of  the  mine  by  a  spring-door.  It  had  been  used  to  pro 
tect  blasting-powder,  when  it  was  not  immediately  used,  after  being 
brought  below  surface.  "After  I  explore  this  hole,"  I  had  said,  "I 
must  go  above-ground,"  but  I  missed  my  bunch  of  keys,  and  went 
back  to  look  for  it  in  the  powder-room,  and  the  door  springing  back 
by  the  prop  which  held  it  open  falling,  I  was  imprisoned  behind  thick 
walls  of  earth  in  a  damp  and  noisome  place,  stifled  for  want  of  air, 
and  with  no  hope  except  the  shadowy  one  that  some  friend  would 
miss  me,  and  finding  that  I  had  undertaken  to  explore  the  mine, 
would  think  of  the  dark  passage-way  that  led  to  my  prison. 

Ah!  who  could  paint  the  agony  of  that  hour  ?  The  first  moments 
were  terrible.  The  perspiration  rolled  from  my  forehead  in  rivers. 
I  tore  at  the  slimy  walls  with  my  nails,  I  screamed,  I  roared;  but 
the  door  and  the  walls  were  solid.  All  was  blackness  above  and 
below,  and  all  around  me,  until  I  wondered  if  I  were  really  in  the 
flesh,  or  only  a  spirit  without  sight  or  consciousness,  save  that  I  was 
suffering  the  torments  of  the  damned  in  the  darkness  of  the  pit.  I 
was  suffocating.  A  heavy  weight  was  npon  my  chest,  a  thousand 
clanging  bells  were  ringing  in  my  ears,  and  the  vague  thought  came 
to  my  mind  through  hundreds  of  other  thoughts  and  feelings,  —  the 
relieving  hope,  — that  I  was  dying. 

After  long  unconsciousness  I  awoke  again,  —  awoke,  but  I  could 
remember  nothing  for  a  long  time,  — not  even  one  thought  about 
the  outside  world,  —  and  lay  as  insensate  and  torpid  as  the  crawling 
reptiles  that  went  sliding  about  the  slippery  floor  with  me.  I  was 
lying  on  my  face,  so  weak  that  I  could  not  rise,  but  I  reached  out 
to  the  walls,  and  my  hands  met  with  a  heavy,  wood-like  substance. 
Soon  they  came  to  what  seemed  to  be  the  edge  of  this  hard  material, 
and  the  soil  beneath  it  felt  more  dry  and  smooth  than  elsewhere 
about  the  walls.  Then  my  thoughts  came  back  to  me  with  a  sud 
den  rush,  not  to  bring  the  blank  misery  of  despair,  but  the  blessed 
realization  that  though  death  threatened,  life  was  still  mine,  and 
that  this  was  the  door  under  which  there  was  a  crack  that  let  in  air. 
I  might  dig,  then,  with  the  surety  that  I  was  not  working  in  the 
wrong  direction  into  the  solid  earth.  With  my  knife  I  began,  and 


462  AEOUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

burrowed  so  rapidly  that  soon  I  had  a  hole  large  enough  to  sink 
my  arm  in,  and  I  knew  by  the  relief  I  felt  that  the  air  was  rushing 
through.  I  drank  ifc  in  with  an  unquenchable  thirst  for  a  time,  and 
then  I  could  rise.  Over  in  one  corner  I  remembered  to  have  seen  a 
rack  on  which  the  powder  was  often  placed  to  keep  it  dry.  It  was 
decayed  and  falling,  but  I  found  an  iron  prop  fastened  to  a  piece  of 
broken  wood,  so  I  firmly  grappled  both  and  tried  to  twist  them  off. 
The  wood  was  swelled  and  covered  with  blistering  fungi,  so  that  it 
was  hard  to  hold,  but  with  the  strength  of  desperation  I  wrenched 
them  loose.  The  iron  had  a  pointed  end,  —  it  was  a  good  tool, 
—  and  so  I  found  the  door  again,  and  just  beside  it  I  began  my 
work.  What  use  to  relate  my  toil  ?  I  had  no  thoughts  but  to  dig. 
Rocks  flew  into  my  face  and  fell  upon  my  feet;  wet  clods  spattered 
down  and  sometimes  suffocated  me,  so  that  I  was  compelled  to  seek 
relief  and  rest  at  my  ventilator  under  the  door;  but  still  I  worked, 
until  at  length,  after  long  hours,  the  final  barrier  crumbled,  and  I 
was  free.  I  was  free  for  what  ?  Only  one  blessing,  —  that  of  light; 
for  was  I  not  deep  down  in  the  forgotten  mine,  where  soon  star 
vation  and  the  vile  breath  of  the  decaying  timbers  would  destroy 
me  ?  From  a  narrow  passage  I  beheld  a  glow,  and  groping  toward 
it  slowly,  and  feeling  my  way  lest  I  should  fall  through  some  deep 
winze  or  into  a  rotting  pool,  I  found  my  torch  all  burned  but  the 
final  inch,  which  drew  from  me  shouts  of  gladness,  repeated  by  the 
echoes  back  like  thousands  of  dull  groans  and  faint  whispers  from 
the  peopled  blackness  of  the  galleries  beyond.  By  this  ray  of  light 
I  found  other  torches;  and  now  I  satisfy  my  hunger  with  the  loath 
some  creatures  that  share  my  abode.  I  write  to  keep  away  the  burn 
ing  madness  that  creeps  over  me,  and  wait  for  death. 

Yesterday  a  man,  very  thin  and  very  tall,  whose  hair  and  face 
and  eyes  were  snowy  white, — only  the  latter  burned  like  stars 
when  he  spoke,  —  came  slowly  up  out  of  the  black  pool  in  the  cor 
ner  of  my  cave,  and  stood  before  me.  "  What  is  your  mission  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"To  show  you  all  the  great,  strange  mechanism  of  the  under- 
earth,"  he  said,  in  a  loud  voice  that  shook  the  rocks  from  the  crum 
bling  walls.  And  then  a  pure  white  fire  burned  around  his  feet,  like 
a  cloud,  and  a  faint  music,  sweet  and  rare,  was  struck  from  chords 
far  under  the  earth. 


EDWARD  DENNETT'S  FORTUNES.  4G3 

"Come,"  ne  said;  and  immediately  the  ground  fell  away  from 
before  him,  where  the  white  flame  burned,  and  clasping  me, 
together  we  sank  far  underground,  the  solid  rock  even  melting  to 
make  us  a  path,  but  closing  again  behind  us.  We  passed  through 
wonderful  veins  of  gold  hidden  in  ledges  deep  down  in  the  bosom  of 
the  soil,  and  now  and  then  a  garnet  or  rich  frond  like  a  diamond 
fell  into  the  burning  fumes  of  fire  that  ploughed  our  way.  After 
long  journeying  we  came  at  last  to  what  the  stranger  told  me  was 
the  soil  below  the  mines  of  Lucky  Streak.  I  told  him  the  name 
sounded  familiar;  but  he  said,  O  no,  I  had  never  heard  it  before, 
and  we  must  keep  very  still,  for  we  were  soon  to  stand  under  a 
boring  where  the  voices  of  the  miners  could  be  heard.  We  listened. 
Click,  click,  sounded  a  picking  hammer.  Finally  a  voice:  "Put  out 
that  light,  boys,  over  in  the  tunnel  to  the  left;  water  13  dripping 
there."  Then  again:  "  Hoist  away, — all  ready."  Presently  came 
a  rumbling  sound,  that  seemed  to  disturb  even  the  ground  around 
us,  and  then  a  rattling,  and  I  asked  in  wonder,  "What  is  it?" 
"Only  the  car  coming  down  the  incline."  Silence  for  a  long  time, 
and  again  a  voice,  — oh  Heaven!  my  Mabel's,  sweet  and  clear,  just 
as  I  remember  it  so  well,  saying,  "How  lonely  it  is  here  when  the 
miners  are  gone!  I  do  not  like  it  so  well.  'Tis  not  pleasant  to 
miss  the  lights  on  their  hats,  making  the  place  bright,  and  the  toil 
ing  army  of  men  scattered  into  every  nook  and  cranny."  "No, 
my  dear,  it  is  not  pleasant;  and  besides,  the  air  is  getting  chilly,  so 
I  must  take  you  up  again;  these  mildewed  fungi  breathe  malaria, 
too;  so  come."  Edward  Dennett's  voice  !  Thank  heaven,  he  always 
guards  her  !  Something  made  me  shudder  and  grow  weak.  "We 
must  go,"  said  my  guide.  "The  poison  air  that  comes  to  us  from, 
the  mine  is  making  you  ill. " 

We  travelled  far,  often  for  miles  through  solid  rock,  and  after  a 
time  came  to  where  the  earth  was  loose;  and  yet  we  travelled  very 
slowly.  "Why  do  we  not  go  faster  when  we  can  make  our  way  so 
easily  ?  "  I  inquired.  ' '  We  are  coming  to  a  cemetery,  and  are  near 
the  surface,  so  I  must  be  careful  not  to  disturb  the  grass.  I  shall 
let  you  look  upon  the  faces  of  the  dead  in  Locustville."  He  com 
manded  the  fir0  to  burn  quietly,  and  it  smouldered  for  a  time,  until 
at  length  the  fumes  cleared  away,  retiring  like  a  lining  to  the  four 
walls,  and  there  glowed  steadily  in  a  bright,  refulgent  light.  In 
the  centre  of  our  square  space  was  a  long,  black  casket  with 


4G4  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

withered  flowers  upon  it.  We  stood  in  silence.  I  removed  my  hat, 
and  the  Spirit  of  the  Ground  took  off  his  crown,  made  of  crisp, 
bright  crystals  from  the  ice-caves.  "  Shall  we  look  upon  his  face  ? " 
he  said.  I  bent  and  read  what  was  engraved  upon  the  plate,  — 
"George  Brooktyn,  aged  30  years";  and  then  I  looked  at  the  face. 
He  was  lying  partly  on  his  side,  and  his  expression  was  calm  and 
peaceful;  his  hands,  white  and  cold  and  deathly,  were  laid  upon  his 
breast,  while  around  him  were  scattered  dry  and  crumbling  rose 
leaves.  One  had  fallen  upon  his  face,  and  I  tried  to  move  him  to 
shako  it  off,  and  as  I  lifted  up  his  head  I  saw  that  the  whole  side  of 
his  face  was  scorched  and  scarred.  "Alas  !  "  I  cried  to  the  spirit, 
"we  have  burned  him."  And  then  my  words  dissolved  the  spell, 
the  scene  had  passed  away,  and  the  white  flame  spurted  forth  again 
in  a  brilliant  cloud  of  incandescent  loveliness.  Soon  we  were  mov 
ing  on,  our  strange  fire  purifying  all  decay,  past  graves  in  which 
were  lying  the  young  and  fair,  half  fallen  into  dust,  sometimes  a 
plump  cheek  gone,  and  sometimes  the  pale  hands  withered;  past  the 
old,  lying  dead  with  silver  locks  grown  long  about  their  peaceful 
faces,  —  all  wrapped  in  that  breathless  calm  that  enchains  them  till 
the  last  great  call.  We  began  to  sink  deep  again,  and  after  long 
silence  and  much  journeying,  the  Ground  Spirit  said  we  were  very 
far  down  in  the  earth,  travelling  under  the  boundless  ocean-bed,  with 
miles  of  purple  waves  tossing  above  us.  We  came  upon  old  wrecks, 
which  the  drifting,  restless  waters  had  buried  deep  in  the  settling 
sands  and  matted  sea-weeds  until  the  waters  rolled  above.  Thero 
were  queer  things  in  them,  — bright  jewels,  human  bones  preserved, 
the  strange  machinery  of  the  olden  times,  and  quaint  little  boats  in 
which  the  fishers  long  ago  drifted  over  the  smooth,  sparkling  waters, 
and  under  the  soft,  azure  sky,  feeling  as  if  they  sailed  between  two 
tender,  gentle  heavens. 

"Only  one  thing  more  will  I  show  you,"  said  the  spirit;  and  in 
stantly  we  went  crashing  through  a  bed  of  rock  that  turned  to  a  field 
of  diamonds  as  we  sped  on.  Millions  of  brilliant  gems  were  crushed, 
the  bright  powder  flying  like  sparks  of  fire,  and  making  magnificent 
halos  of  light  all  about  the  larger  stones  that  were  falling  heavily, 
yet  glowing  as  suns,  with  glistenings  of  purple  and  scarlet  and  green, 
into  the  fire  around  us.  In  dew-like  showers  they  fell,  shivered 
sometimes  to  long  splinters  like  needles,  rounded  at  others  like 
smooth,  lustrous  pearls  or  drops  of  water.  "This  is  part  of  my 


EDWARD  DENNETT'S  FORTUNES.  4G5 

work,"  said  the  Spirit  of  the  Ground.  "I  always  plough  through 
the  diamond  bowlders,  to  break  and  crumble  them."  After  this  he 
breathed  upon  me,  and  I  saw  no  more,  until  he  said  in  a  loud  voice, 
"  Arouse  !  we  arc  nearing  the  Golden  Deep";  and  I  awoke  just  in 
time  to  get  a  glimpse  of  our  path  as  we  were  rising  to  enter  the 
mine.  We  rose  from  the  powder-room,  and  I  saw,  as  we  passed  up, 
a  marvellous  pocket  of  gold,  rich,  heavy  nuggets  embedded  in  buried 
ledges,  which  we  loosened,  cropping  out  even  to  the  surface  of  the 
excavation.  I  was  entranced  with  wonder.  "This  mine  is  not  a 
useless  one,"  I  said;  but  the  spirit  answered  not.  He  placed  me 
where  I  sat  when  he  took  me  away,  stood  for  a  space  in  silent  majesty 
before  mo,  while  sweet,  harp-like  music  floated  through  the  dark, 
echoing  tunnels,  said  a  farewell  that  haunted  me  long  with  its  awful 
grandeur,  and  then  disappeared  into  the  pool  whence  he  came  forth. 

There  are  gates  of  ivory  in  the  heavens.  One  night  —  it  wag 
night  because  the  stars  were  shining  when  we  rose  from  earth  —  a 
troop  of  spirits  gave  me  wings  to  fly  with  them  far  into  the  vast  re 
gions  of  space.  The  stars  that  I  have  so  often  watched  on  balmy 
summer  evenings  in  my  night  vigils,  or  when  sleeping  out  under  the 
clear  winter  skies,  while  they  burned  like  constellations  of  diamonds 
through  the  blackness  of  space,  grew  larger  and  more  beautiful  as  we 
flew  toward  them.  Faint  through  the  misty  whiteness  of  unnum 
bered  worlds  other  stars  appeared,  that  had  never  been  revealed  to 
the  naked  eye  looking  upward  from  the  world  below.  I  looked  back 
to  the  earth  whence  we  came.  Morning  must  have  broken  over  it 
since  we  left,  for  all  about  it  shone  a  white  glory  of  light,  reaching 
far  up  to  where  the  atmosphere  merged  into  space,  yet  crystal  as  a 
covering  of  water.  There  were  its  dark  blue  seas  washing  against 
the  shores  of  silver  that  quickly  blended  into  green,  the  mountains 
white  tipped  and  gleaming,  and  the  lakes  and  rivers  purely  bright, 
shining  in  the  new  day.  And  then  came  that  thought  about  the  in 
finite  power  of  vision,  and  the  slow  travelling  of  light,  that  supposes 
one  to  stand  with  these  wonderful  eyes  upon  a  distant  planet,  and 
the  light  from  the  world  which  must  journey  eighteen  hundred  years 
to  reach  him  bears  pictures  of  scenes  in  the  old  Bible  days.  No  ac 
tion  is  ever  lost;  no  deed  is  ever  done  that  cannot  be  viewed  from 
some  orb  of  the  skies  where  this  light  can  be  seen. 

We  passed  the  moon.     It  was  cold  and  white,  and  wrapped  as  in 


466  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

a  veil  with  a  silvery,  golcl-lighte d  inist.  After  that  came  the  deep 
serenity  of  space  beyond,  suns  terrible  in  their  destroying  glare, 
planets  swinging  in  their  unyielding  orbits,  constellations  stretching 
far  out  in  a  billowy  cloud  of  whiteness.  Nebula  after  nebula  were 
revealed.  Countless  thousands  —  ay,  myriads  —  of  worlds  were 
passed,  systems  great  and  small,  with  their  planets  and  satellites, 
and  comets  that  shook  their  showers  of  flashing  meteors  through 
illimitable  tracts  of  space;  until  wearied,  I  asked  of  the  spirits, 
"  Where  is  the  roof  of  heaven  ?  " 

"The  roof  of  heaven,"  "the  roof  of  heaven,"  they  answered. 

"  Or  where  is  the  gate  ?  " 

"The  gate,"  "the  gate,"  was  all  I  heard. 

"  Tell  me  !  "  I  cried,  in  the  agony  of  alarm,  for  we  seemed  floating 
on  forever  through  the  boundless  regions  of  the  stars.  As  I  spoke, 
sheets  of  flame  blew  past  us,  and  then  darkness  quenched  the 
light  of  all  the  stars,  and  we  were  lifted  up  and  up,  we  knew  nob 
whither.  Then  I  was  in  ecstacies,  —  I  was  filled  with  raptures  of 
which  I  had  never  even  dreamed  before.  We  stopped,  and  a  sudden 
rolling  sound  came  to  us,  and  then  as  light  broke  dimly  on  our  be 
nighted  senses,  Paradise  opened  out  before  our  entranced  vision. 
Light  pure  and  holy  and  soft  shed  floods  of  glory  over  all,  —  long 
vistas,  bright  aisles,  gorgeous  streams  of  light,  were  there.  Great 
raptures  of  melody,  such  as  satisfied  all  we  miss  in  our  earthly  har 
monies,  drifted  out  to  our  charmed  senses,  for  here  the  soul  of  music 
dwelt.  Far  as  the  eye  could  see  stretched  the  fields  of  glory,  and 
away  down  through  the  centre  swept  a  broad  pathway  like  a  river 
of  glass  leading  up  to  the  limitless  gates  of  pearl,  that  opened  into 
heaven  itself;  they  extended  upward  till  their  tops  were  hidden  in 
the  unbearable  light,  the  indescribable  beauty  of  the  everlasting 
day;  they  reached  far  out  on  either  side,  till  the  mind  could  not  com 
prehend  their  immensity. 

I  looked  again,  and  behold!  two  gates  of  ivory  had  rolled  apart  to 
reveal  this  glimpse  of  Paradise;  but  we  were  still  without.  And 
then  a  mighty  angel,  terrible  in  his  majesty,  said:  "Man,  what 
dost  thou  here  at  the  gate  of  Paradise  in  thy  garb  of  fleshly  world- 
liness  ?  "  But  I  could  answer  not;  so  he  said  again,  "Ye,  born  Tipon 
the  earth,  organic  being  from  a  world  organic,  how  canst  thou  con 
ceive  of  aught  else  but  that  things  have  still  a  beginning  and  an  end  ? 
How  can  a  mind  chained  to  its  prison  of  flesh  grasp  eternity  iu  ita 


4G7 


understanding?  Knowest  thou  not  the  rules  of  earth  still  bind 
theo  ?  Over  thee  the  law  of  gravitation  yet  holds  its  sway;  thou 
canst  not  comprehend  what  is  not  up  or  clown,  below  or  above.  The 
bliss  of  heaven  thou  canst  not  enjoy  in  thy  present  temple  of  flesh; 
no  sense  of  the  great  glory  rewards  thee  for  being  here.  In  the  free 
spirit  come,  and  delights  insufferable  to  thee  now  await  thee  cleansed 
from  thy  taint  of  earth." 

"Oh  what  shall  I  do  to  comprehend  and  reach  that  heavenly  state  ?  " 
I  asked. 

Then  the  angel  looked  very  tenderly  down  upon  me,  shone  with  a 
renewed  loveliness,  and  said,  what  I  had  learned  long  years  ago  at 
my  mother's  knee,  "He  that  belie veth  in  Me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast 
out.  Haste  thee  back  to  earth  again,  for  thou  art  coming  soon. 
Mark  well  the  time,  — prepare!  "  And  then  the  ivory  gates  closed 
round,  and  we  were  left  without  in  darkness;  the  torments  of  the 
condemned  seemed  to  seize  me,  weights  of  a  thousand  tons  were 
pressing  on  my  frame;  and  yet  I  could  not  die,  though  excruciating 
agonies  racked  me,  though  I  could  neither  hear  nor  see,  though  my 
brain  seemed  crushed  to  atoms.  Long  lines  of  white  stretching  far 
across  a  black,  immeasurable  gulf  presented  themselves  to  a  sense 
within  me  rather  than  to  my  oiitward  vision,  and  over  these  inter 
minable,  silvery  cords  I  swiftly  flew,  borne  on  and  on  like  light 
ning  through  an  unending  cycle,  till  I  roused  myself  with  one  last 
•wild  effort  of  despair,  and  cried  to  the  spirits  who  followed  me, 
"Oh!  will  this  last  forever?" 

"Forever!"  "forever!"  they  echoed.  Along  lament  my  sorely 
wrought  soul  was  forced  to  utter  in  its  anguish,  and  the  spell  was 
broken.  The  clear  light  of  the  stars  broke  over  me  again,  the  sub 
lime  perfection  of  the  heavens  unrolled  itself  to  my  released  senses, 
and  soothed  my  unutterable  tortures  to  an  end.  Far,  far  below, 
through  the  mists  of  a  hundred  million  spheres  we  journeyed,  till  a 
bright  little  planet  glowed  beneath  us,  —  my  world  again,  first  like 
a  great  brilliant  moon  outlined  by  the  velvety  blackness  of  space  be 
hind  it,  but  growing  larger  and  fairer,  till  its  outlines  were  distinct, 
and  its  rugged  surface  engraved  with  the  old  familiar  pictures  of  ter 
restrial  beauty.  The  unsatisfied  ambitions  of  the  world  came  over 
me,  and  we  were  indeed  back  again;  and  thoiigh  I  humbly  begged 
the  spirits  to  leave  me  on  the  iair,  green  world,  they  only  mockingly 
repeated  my  request,  and  flew  with  me  to  my  earthy  den,  and  Lffc 


468  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

me  to  ponder  on  my  wonderful  journey  skyward  to  explore  the  in 
exhaustible  splendors  of  the  heavens. 

If  I  could  but  follow  the  grave,  majestic  Spirit  of  the  Ground! 
He  will  never  return,  I  fear;  and  yet  if  I  had  his  power  of  plough 
ing  through  the  solid  granite  stretching  in  mountain  chains  across 
the  hemisphere,  what  gold  and  gems  and  wealth  of  prehistoric 
times  should  be  mine!  But  best  of  all,  I  could  scatter  showers  — 
iloods  of  gold  and  treasure  —  over  the  mining  town,  as  we,  like 
liends,  scattered  the  all-consuming  flames  that  night.  And  then 
they  would  forget  their  dire  misfortune  in  this  new  gladness. 

My  torch  is  smoking.  What  a  cold,  sickly  light!  It  nickers  in 
this  noisome  atmosphere,  and  longs,  lingers,  fairly  thirsts,  as  I  do, 
for  a  bright,  warm  ray  of  sunshine.  I  wish  the  soft,  bright  beams 
of  the  sun  would  fall  upon  me,  making  dry  and  glossy  again  this 
clammy,  dripping  hair,  which  presses  upon  my  head  like  the  cruel 
hand  of  an  evil  jinnee.  Oh,  that  I  could  feel  the  sunshine  folded 
about  me  with  its  warm  and  clingkig  folds  of  light.  The  soft 
beams  would  press  my  forehead  like  dear,  loving  hands,  and  clear 
away  these  mists  and  tangled  webs  that  make  me  feel  so  strange  and 
terrible  at  times.  Hark!  I  hear  again  the  voices  of  the  angels.  Why 
was  it  that  I  did  not  go  with  them  ?  Repent,  they  said,  and  come.  I 
have  bitterly  and  sincerely  repented,  but  I  cannot  go.  Ah!  why  did 
I  not  think  of  it  before  ?  I  will  leave  this  nobe-book  at  the  foot  of 
the  shaft,  for  I  will  never  return,  since  I  have  found  wings,  and  can 
at  last  escape.  The  end  of  this  glimmering  torch  will  set  off  the 
powder  in  the  powder-room,  and  on  the  wings  of  light  which  will 
unfold  from  the  dark  mass  I  shall  soar  upward,  — •  straight  upward, 
beyond  the  starry  systems  of  the  suns,  and  the  gates  of  ivory,  to 
the  fountain-head  of  eternal  light  and  peace. 


MABEL'S  JOURNEY.  469 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

MABEL'S  JOURNEY. 

There  is  a  comfort  in  the  strength  of  love; 

T  will  make  endurable  which  else  would  break  the  heart. 

WORDSWORTH. 

THE  winter  came.  Far  away  in  their  city  home  on 
the  coast,  where  the  pearly  fog-banks  wrapped  the  earth 
in  a  steamy  mantle,  arid  over  the  wind-blown  hills  the 
earliest  rains  fell  like  a  shower  of  verdure,  where  the 
wintry  sun  still  beamed  with  a  semi-tropical  brightness, 
and  made  snow-drifts  out  of  the  long  white  stretches  of 
sand,  Mabel  and  her  aunt  scarcely  realized  that  autumn 
had  not  melted  into  spring.  One  day  Mrs.  Willis,  after 
a  week's  mysterious  behavior,  informed  her  niece  that 
they  were  on  the  eve  of  a  journey  East.  "We  are  too 
poor  to  stay  here  for  the  winter,"  she  said.  "  The  mite 
we  have  loft  would  vanish  entirely  after  half  a  season's 
gayety.  So  we  must  hide  ourselves  from  the  reach  of 
fashion's  demands." 

Mrs.  Willis  did  not  add  what  her  private  reasons 
were  for  this  step,  nor  excuse  her  previous  conduct  when 
she  had  been  so  inexorably  averse  to  a  life  isolated 
from  society,  on  Mabel's  suggestion  that  they  find  a 
quiet  home  in  her  loved  hills.  She  had  reasoned  it  out 
in  this  wise:  that  Mabel  was  young  yet;  she  could  not 
afford  to  lose  her  darling  for  a  year  or  so  at  least,  and 
hence  a  season  in  an  old-fashioned  Yankee  town  at  the 


470  AROTJND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

quiet  home  of  her  grandfather  would  not  be  BO  misspent 
as  to  injure  the  young  girl's  prospects  in  life.  Besides, 
this  course  would  be  prudent  for  economical  reasons. 
But  aside  from  these  arguments  in  its  favor,  there  was 
another,  more  powerful  than  any  of  the  rest.  Edward 
Dennett  had  risen  up  among  Mrs.  Willis's  mental  file 
of  traitorous  villains  ready  to  steal  Mabel,  the  most 
black-hearted  and  dangerous  of  them  all.  The  others 
dwindled  into  mere  pigmies  in  comparison  to  him.  She 
had  been  ignorant  in  regard  to  the  true  state  of  affairs, 
until  Mabel's  paling  cheek  had  given  warning  that  some 
weighty  trouble  was  the  cause  of  it.  She  came  to  her 
senses  at  once,  and  realized  that  the  affair  had  already 
gone  on  far  too  long,  that  Mabel  really  loved  that  young 
man  who  had  spent  his  life  in  the  mines,  and  whose 
name  was  disgraced  by  the  charge  of  a  heinous  crime. 

He  would  soon  tire  of  his  exile,  and  come  hovering 
around  to  get  a  glimpse  of  Mabel,  or  write  to  her,  and 
stir  up  matters  afresh.  • 

The  best  thing  possible  would  be  to  get  Mabel  out  of 
the  way,  where  no  letter  would  reach  her,  and  no  mes 
sages  or  even  news  could  be  exchanged. 

Hence  it  was  only  on  the  eve  of  their  departure  that 
Mabel  was  informed  of  their  projected  journey,  lest 
a  clandestine  correspondence  might  begin  while  the 
plans  were  maturing.  Mabel  received  the  intelligence 
in  silence,  and  made  her  simple  preparations  without  a 
rnurrnur.  What  could  it  matter  to  her  when  her  heart 
would  surely  ache,  whithersoever  she  might  go?  Would 
it  not  be  better  to  bury  those  haunting  memories  in  new 
scenes  and  a  new  life?  And  so  they  went. 

The  winter  passed.     It  was  a  long,  long,  dreary  one 


MABEL'S  JOURNEY.  471 

to  Mabel  in  their  snow-bound  retreat,  and  often  there 
came  to  her  visions  of  her  far-off  California  home,  with 
its  flowery  hills,  its  balmy  air,  its  matchless  beauties. 
But  when  spring  peeped  up  through  the  white  coverlet 
on  the  ground  in  the  form  of  dainty  May-flowers,  they 
prepared  to  turn  their  faces  to  that  glorious  land  of 
the  setting  sun,  toward  which  Mabel's  weary,  homesick 
heart  turned  with  nameless  longing.  Hers  was  not  a 
love  which  loves  lightly  and  forgets.  Her  whole  faith, 
the  beauty,  the  poetry,  the  longing  of  her  nature,  were 
expressed  in  it.  Ah!  then  how  could  she  cast  it  all 
aside,  and  take  up  other  joys,  forgetful  of  the  past? 
She  did  not  brood  with  inconsolable  pain  over  her  sor 
row',  but  her  delicate,  sensitive  heart  had  been  touched 
too  deeply  for  the  wound  to  heal  with  the  balm  of  time 
and  absence;  and  so,  although  her  spirits  were  light 
and  her  manner  as  sweetly  joyous  as  of  old,  there  was 
a  memory  in  her  heart  too  sacred  for  the  outer  world 
to  look  upon,  which  brought  her  hours  of  tender  long 
ing  and  regret,  and  darkened  all  her  inner  life  with  a 
melancholy  shadow. 

Mrs.  Willis  noted  every  indication  of  returning  cheer 
fulness  in  Mabel  with  satisfaction, '  and  after  a  little 
discreet  questioning,  decided  that  all  the  danger  which 
had  so  troubled  her  was  past,  and  she  could  at  last  go 
home.  Mabel's  heart  thrilled  with  joy  through  every 
mile  of  their  westward  journey. 

Somehow  in  her  mind  her  distant  California  home, 
with  its  fair,  blue  mountains,  its  wide,  sunny  valleys 
of  grain,  its  semi-tropic  bloom,  and  the  dreamy  atmos 
phere  of  the  old  pastoral  days  of  the  Spanish  dominion, 
still  breathing  with  luxurious  quiet  through  the  stir- 


472  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

ring  life  which  later  thronged  its  gold-browed  hills, 
seemed  like  a  dream  of  Paradise,  where  life  could  not 
be  anything  but  sweet  and  peaceful.  The  first  vision 
of  its  snowy  peaks,  trembling  like  white  clouds  on  the 
low  horizon,  brought  a  rapture  unspeakable.  Perhaps 
somewhere  among  those  gleaming  summits  he  whom 
she  loved  BO  fondly  waited  with  strong  courage  and 
patient  fortitude  that  time  when  the  blighted  promise 
of  his  earnest  life  should  bloom;  and  then,  —  ah!  the 
hope  was  sweet  if  vain,  — perhaps  he  might  be  waiting 
with  glad  tidings  for  her  anxious  heart. 

Home  at  last!  Home  that  was  dearer  now  than  it 
ever  was  before,  with  its  old  associations  of  her  girlish 
dreams,  its  calm  delights,  its  welcome  rest! 

All  the  long  winter  Mabel  had  not  received  the 
slightest  message  from  those  friends  her  heart  held  so 
dear  in  the  far-distant  mountains;  and  after  a  little 
conscientious  deliberation,  she  decided  to  write  to  Mrs. 
Dennett  without  her  aunt's  knowledge.  It  seemed  so 
cruel,  she  felt,  to  neglect  them  in  their  misfortune,  and 
it  would  not  matter  if  Aunt  Cynthia  discovered  her 
act  after  the  letter  was  sent.  So  she  wrote  a  long  mes 
sage,  describing  her  Eastern  visit,  and  modestly  put 
ting  in  little  touches  of  sympathy  which  yet  scarcely 
reminded  Mrs.  Dennett  of  her  sorrow.  After  the  let 
ter  had  been  sent  two  or  three  weeks,  Mrs.  Willis 
handed  a  letter  to  Mabel,  with  the  playful  remark  that 
perhaps  in  it  she  might  find  a  pleasant  reminder  of 
a  summer's  flirtation.  With  trembling  hands  Mabel 
opened  it,  and  discovered  that  more  than  a  week  had 
passed  since  its  arrival.  It  was  from  Mrs.  Dennett,  a 
pleasant  letter,  fraught  with  an  undercurrent  of  cheer, 


MABEL'S  JOURNEY.  473 

seemingly  impossible  to  a  mother  whose  best  hope  was 
dead.     Mabel  read  it  through  with  eager  joy. 

MY  DEAR  MABEL,  — 

Though  months  have  passed  siiice  your  bright  face  gladdened  my 
lonely  home,  sitting  here  in  this  long,  low  room  as  I  do  to-day,  and 
looking  at  the  empty  chair  by  the  west  window  where  you  used  to 
sit,  your  very  presence  is  with  me,  and  your  cheering  influence  dis 
pels  the  gloominess  of  this  chill  March  day.  For  though  lighted  by 
a  pale  and  wintry  sun,  the  sky  seems  cold  and  cheerless,  and  the 
signs  of  awakening  spring  do  not  serve  to  bring  its  spirit,  though 
we  see  ib  coming  in  the  budding  trees  and  the  white  flakes  from  the 
bee-haunted  boughs  of  the  almonds,  the  yellowish  mosses  and  the 
tender  grasses  crowding  up  through  the  damp,  thick  mats  of  dead 
pine-needles  in  the  woods,  and  the  deep  blue  summits  of  the  nearer 
heights  forsaken,  by  their  coverlets  of  gleaming  snows,  save  here  and 
there,  in  the  sunless  seams,  a  soft,  white,  foamy  mass. 

This  world  of  ours,  high  up  beyond  the  foothills,  and  shut  out,  by 
many  a  purple  fold  of  hills  and  many  a  wall  of  flinty  rock  and  living 
pine,  from  the  busy,  changing  world  in  which  you  live,  still  has  its 
histories,  humble  and  unwritten  though  they  be,  and  its  changes, 
coming  slowly  day  by  day,  that  soon  become  as  real  as  the  varying 
seasons  of  the  year.  For  that  great  scene  of  desolation,  ashes,  and 
destruction  which  you  left  has  changed  with  the  progress  of  the 
months,  until  now  the  yellowish  pine  lumber  of  the  new-built  town 
catches  the  first  beams  of  the  rising  sun  on  scores  of  shining  roofs. 

We  are  almost  proud  of  our  new  town;  it  haa  risen  under  a  hun 
dred  hammers  that  kept  the  hillsides  echoing  with  their  ring  from 
the  early  dawn  until  the  last  glory  on  the  westward  mountains 
yielded  to  the  dusky  night.  And  now  for  all  this  toil  the  resonant 
plank  has  risen  into  shape  and  order,  and  we  have  the  stores  and 
shops,  the  cabins  and  the  homes,  as  you  once  saw  them,  only  they 
are  all  more  new  and  bright. 

Where  stood  the  Royal  Regina  on  the  hill-slope,  its  successor  has 
risen,  taller  and  more  majestic  than  the  old,  because  robbed  of  its 
surrounding  sheltering  groves.  Long  weeks  passed  before  its  great 
naked  beams  and  rafters  received  a  covering  of  wall  and  roof,  but 
now  it  is  rapidly  iiearing  completion,  and  all  about  it  are  laid  01^ 
spacious  grounds  for  lawns  and  gardens,  and  the  slim  Australian 


474  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

gum  in  a  few  years  will  substitute  those  majestic  pines  that  went 
down  with  all  their  secrets  of  the  ages  in  clouds  of  smoke  and  fire. 

The  mines  are  in  motion  again,  though  it  was  some  time  after  our 
great  conflagration  before  the  broken  aqueducts  could  be  renewed, 
and  the  scattered  miners  gathered  to  the  work.  Now  the  shrill 
whistle  wakes  the  slumbering  canons  with  its  piercing  blasts;  and 
Mr.  Sevenoakes — perhaps  you  still  remember  him  —  is  struggling 
to  get  his  business  into  shape  again.  Edward's  position  has  been 
filled  by  a  stranger,  but  times  are  dull  yet,  for  the  mines  do  not 
promise  the  wealth  they  did  before  the  fire.  I  fear  that  scorching 
llame  consumed  the  bright  halo  of  prosperity  that  hovered  over  this 
wild,  mountainous  spot. 

But  last  of  all,  — now  that  I  have  given  you  a  brief  outline  of 
affairs  here,  —  I  am  going  to  make  a  suggestion  to  you.  Spring  has 
come;  why  cannot  you  come  with  it  ?  My  home  and  my  best  love 
are  waiting.  I  cannot  tell  you  what  prompts  this  daring  proposi 
tion,  —  for  I  woull  not  presume  to  make  it  without  some  sanction 
from  a  more  hopeful  future,  you  know.  I  would  not  dare  to  tempt 
myself  with  your  sweet  friendship,  if  all  hope  were  past.  I  shall 
write  to  your  aunt,  with  the  view  of  prevailing  on  her  to  make  the 
visit,  and  the  time  will  pass  wearily  until  your  reply  assures  rne  of 
my  anticipated  pleasure. 

Trusting  that  some  things  I  much  desire  to  tell  you  have  nob 
been  needlessly  withheld,  and  that  soon  I  shall  have  the  opportunity 
of  seeing  you,  that  I  may  tell  them  better, 

I  remain,  yours  faithfully, 

FRANCES  DENNETT. 

Mabel  handed  the  letter  to  her  aunt  in  silence,  but 
Mrs.  Willis  shook  her  head.  '*  You  may  do  as  you 
like  about  going/'  she  said;  "  I  am  willing,  if  you  care 
to  make  the  trip."  Mabel  opened  her  eyes  in  wonder. 
"I  have  written  to  Mr.  Sevenoakes  since  I  received  a 
letter  from  Mrs.  Dennett,"  Mrs.  Willis  volunteered  to 
state,  —  "I  have  discovered  that  I  can  allow  it." 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Cynthia!  "  cried  Mabel,  impetuously  kiss 
ing  her  wrinkled  cheek,  "you  look  lovelier  than  ever 
before  in  your  life!  " 


THE   FULFILMENT.  475 

CHAPTER    XXXII. 

THE    FULFILMENT. 

Love  is  represented  as  the  fulfilling  of  the  law, — a  creature's 
perfection.  All  other  graces,  all  divine  dispensations,  contribute 
to  this,  and  are  lost  in  it  as  in  a  heaven.  It  expels  the  dross  of 
our  nature;  it  overcomes  sorrow;  it  is  the  full  joy  of  our  Lord.  — 
HOOKER. 

IT  was  twilight  in  the  mountains.  The  sun  had  just 
set  behind  the  green  and  purple  battlements  in  the 
west,  leaving  gold-emblazoned  banners  of  cloud  resting 
above  the  bright  horizon.  March  was  nearly  over,  so 
its  starry,  golden  pansies  and  glossy-petalled  buttercups 
were  giving  place  to  gorgeous  banks  and  meadows  of 
spring-time's  richest,  deepest  bloom.  Bluebells  nodded 
on  brittle  stems  from  the  shelter  of  overhanging  rocks, 
showing  distinctly  their  delicate,  fair  hues  against 
heavy  fronds  of  rank  young  ferns.  Great  clumps  of 
wild  California  poppies  flamed  from  the  rocky  hill- 
crests,  their  silken,  pollen-dusted  petals  folding  up  after 
the  kisses  of  the  twilight  breeze.  Musk  blooms  waved 
gracefully  from  mossy,  dew-gemmed  banks  by  the 
creeks,  and  rich,  heavy  vines  trailed  their  brilliant 
sprays  of  scarlet-lipped  blossoms  over  the  steep  hill 
sides,  where  only  the  slender  fir  and  pine  dared  to  climb 
among  the  rocky  ribs. 

In  the  swales  and  on  the  gentle  slopes,  beds  of  gold 
and  white  and  azure  hid  the  tender  greenness  of  the 
grass,  or  mingled  their  bright  colors  with  its  rich 
growth  in  the  deepest,  dewiest  hollows. 


47C)  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

Mabel  Willis  wandered  out  alone  from  Mrs.  Dennett's 
house  for  a  breath  from  the  fresh-scented  wildwood  and 
the  sweet,  closing  flowers,  ere  the  twilight  faded.  She 
and  her  aunt  had  just  arrived.  After  a  few  minutes 
spent  in  joyous  greetings,  Mrs.  Dennett  had  shown  her 
guests  to  their  rooms,  saying  that  all  news  and  good 
tidings  must  be  kept  until  they  had  relieved  themselves 
of  the  dust  and  weariness  of  travel. 

But  Mabel  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  remaining 
in-doors  while  the  strange,  wild  beauty  of  the  twilight 
deepened.  So  hastily  brushing  her  hair,  bathing  her 
face  with  the  clear  spring  water  which  Mrs.  Dennett 
had  provided  for  her  room,  and  changing  her  travelling- 
buit  for  a  dredS  of  soft,  dark  green  material,  as  if  to 
wear  the  bright  livery  of  spring,  and  fastening  a  scarf 
of  frosty  lace  about  her  throat,  her  simple  prepara 
tions  were  made.  Mrs.  Willis  had  only  commenced 
her  toilet,  so  Mabel  had  stepped  through  the  low-silled 
window  for  a  breath  of  the  deep,  sweet  grass  that  grew 
untrodden  in  the  garden. 

Roses  of  all  descriptions  flourished  there:  great  bend 
ing  trees,  with  golden-tinted  tea-roses  bursting  the  firm 
buds  into  showers  of  fair,  broad  petals  over  all  the 
wealth  of  new  and  glossy  leaves;  straight,  thorn-girt 
stalks,  with  scarlet  velvet  buds  half  blown  blushing 
brighter  in  the  sunset  gold;  dainty,  willowy  sprays 
with  buds  of  white  and  blush  hiding  beneath  a  green 
frost-work  of  moss;  pretty  vines  of  Baltimores  climbing 
unchecked  over  windows  and  lattice;  and  bushes  with 
long,  nodding  sprays  on  which  the  fair,  pink  buds  of 
old  Castile  breathed  in  their  drowsy  perfume  some 
thing  of  the  dreamy  romance  of  the  elder  Spain  in  this 


THE   FULFILMENT.  477 

strange,  wild  land  of  gold,  unfolding  like  a  mighty  new 
born  empire  before  the  startled  world. 

Mabel  had  walked  through  the  long  grass  nodding 
sleepily  in  the  gentle  wind,  past  each  budding  rose-bush, 
to  a  gate  which  opened  out  on  one  side  of  the  garden. 
Stealing  a  glance  back  at  the  white  house  hiding  behind 
the  green,  spreading  trees  and  clustering  rose-bowers,  she 
had  lifted  the  latch  and  ventured  out.  Only  a  glimpse 
of  that  glorious  sunset  over  the  far-off  hills,  she  had 
longed  for,  but  now  she  must  go  farther,  for  all  around 
her  stretched  a  wide  clover-meadow,  and  bright  slopes 
draped  with  broideries  of  nature's  choicest  art.  A  few 
frolicsome  calves  galloped  about  in  that  valley-like 
swale  between  the  hills,  while  their  soft-eyed  mothers 
lowed  gently  as  they  came  homeward  along  the  trail 
that  led  across  the  slopes,  and  looked  longingly  toward 
them  from  the  pasture  bars. 

"  This  scene  is  just  as  Edward  used  to  see  it  when  a 
boy,"  mused  Mabel,  wandering  farther  through  the 
damp,  fresh  clover,  trying  to  realize  how  the  years  had 
changed  all  but  the  spot  itself,  which  was  renewed  with 
each  reopening  of  spring,  and  wondering  if  at  twilight 
his  thoughts  ever  returned  to  his  far-away  mountain 
home, — to  that  little  blooming  meadow  associated  with 
his  happy,  careless  boyhood.  Alas!  to  him  that  old 
house  gleaming  through  the  trees  was  home  no  more ! 
Memories  he  might  have  of  his  mother's  dear  face 
smiling  on  him  from  that  vine-shaded  doorway,  of  her 
tenderness  as  she  stroked  his  fair  hair  from  his  boyish 
face,  of  the  old  home's  cheerful,  glowing  hearth,  that 
corner-stone  of  all  love's  sweetest,  tenderest  joy;  but 
these  could  be  nothing  more  than  memories  to  him  now. 


478  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

Something  more  glittering  than  dew  fell  in  the  deep, 
wild  grass;  but  Mabel  checked  herself.  All  through  the 
weary  months  of  the  past  winter  she  had  gleaned  com 
fort  from  that  vision  when  heaven  seemed  all  around 
her,  and  her  vain  hopes  all  fulfilled.  "  No  wonder  he 
was  strong.  It  is  a  little  fort,"  she  thought  again, 
looking  away  with  a  calm  thrill  of  rapture.  And  then 
came  to  her  some  realization  of  how  high — how  near  to 
heaven — she  was  in  that  little  plateau  among  the  moun 
tains;  how  beyond  the  blue  line  of  ranges  in  the  west 
green  slopes  unnumbered  slowly  descended  to  the  great 
inland  valley  country,  where  another  world  rolled  on 
with  the  heat  and  turmoil  of  crowded  cities,  the  noise 
and  clashing  of  man  against  his  brother,  in  a  cruel, 
never-ending  warfare.  Far  away  from  it  all,  up  there 
in  that  spring-time  twilight  among  the  hills,  there  was 
peace,  —  peace  in  its  gentle  winds,  its  dreamy  quiet,  its 
ever-changing,  softened  beauty. 

She  wandered  on  till  she  reached  a  gray  fence  of 
logs,  moss-covered  and  decaying,  through  which  the 
wild  oats  sent  up  sharp  budding  spears  of  satiny  green, 
and  around  which  the  grass  grew  thick  and  tall.  An 
old  orchard  on  the  other  side  bent  its  gnarled  branches 
as  if  to  shelter  that  low,  rude  fence  with  a  canopy  of 
nature's  arches,  filled  in  with  the  pearly  beauty  of  clus 
tering  apple  blossoms.  Mabel  could  look  far  in  and 
see  the  long  aisles  of  the  orchard,  dark  and  shadowy 
on  the  ground,  but  lighted  with  a  glory  overhead  from 
a  fluttering  mass  of  snowy  bloom.  Long  sprays  and 
branches  swayed  and  nodded  and  rustled  gently,  and 
sometimes  from  the  white-crowned  almonds  a  storm 
of  flaky  petals  fluttered  out  upon  the  breeze,  sifting 


THE   FULFILMENT.  479 

through  the  dark  trees  till  the  last  leaf  fell  upon  the 
tall  orchard  grass.  Peach-trees  lifted  their  blushy 
bells  to  heaven,  and  showed  their  long  pink  stamens 
like  threads  against  the  fair  light  of  the  sky;  and  pear 
blossoms  in  rich,  heavy  clusters  scarce  trembled  in  tho 
breezes,  as  if  their  dainty  petals  were  carved  from 
ivory,  and  firmly  set  on  branches  studded  with  bud 
ding  leaves  of  silver. 

Presently  a  breeze  stirred  along  the  grass,  causing 
the  tall,  elastic  spears  to  bow  and  tremble  as  it  passed 
over,  until  it  reached  the  spot  were  Mabel  stood  besido 
the  old  log  fence.  It  tossed  about  the  loose  brown 
curls  on  her  forehead,  and  played  coquettishly  with  the 
soft  lace  at  her  neck,  as  if  it  loved  to  linger  around 
so  fair  a  flower,  though  free  to  roam  at  will  through 
countless  miles  of  bloom. 

Something  in  the  wooings  of  that  cool,  fresh  breeze, 
—  the  scent  of  pine,  the  fleeting  breath  of  wild-rose 
brambles,  or  the  blended  perfumes  of  a  thousand  flowers, 
— caught  in  its  wanderings  over  those  verdant  slopes, 
brought  back  to  her  a  spell, — that  lingering,  mourn 
ful  sweetness  clustering  around  her  memories  of  these 
wild  old  scenes,  like  the  ceaseless  melody  that  echoes 
in  the  heart  after  the  trembling  chords  of  perfect  song 
are  stilled.  Through  the  waving  apple-boughs  she 
caught  glimpses  of  the  hard,  red  stage  road  winding 
along  the  slopes,  and  then  there  flashed  across  her 
mind  the  memory  of  one  rainy  night  in  winter  when 
she  had  watched  a  lonely  horseman  wend  his  way 
along  its  gleaming  track.  Those  showers  had  brought 
a  glorious  crown  of  verdure  for  the  bare,  bleak  hills. 
Alas,  for  him  who  rode  away  that  night  the  storms 


480  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

of  life  had  nourished  no  seeds  of  joy  to  blossom  into 
spring-time!  She  bowed  her  head  on  the  gray  log  be 
side  her,  while  a  bunch  of  bluebells,  growing  in  a  shel 
tered  niche  just  below,  swam  in  the  cloud  of  tears  that 
veiled  her  eyes.  Still  that  cool  breeze  lingered  around 
her,  bringing  its  matchless  odors,  the  low  whisperings 
of  the  leaves  above,  the  rustling  of  its  footsteps  in  the 
grass;  and  once  she  thought  she  caught  the  low  mur 
murs  of  a  song,  —  "Home  again," — like  the  faint,  harp- 
like  melodies  of  the  pine-trees.  And  then  the  next 
instant  she  heard  another  echo,  more  deep  and  strong, 
and  nearer, —  "from  a  foreign  shore,"  —  swelling  out 
across  the  meadow,  too  clear  and  full  of  soul-like 
harmony  to  spring  from  the  moaning  pine-leaves. 
She  looked  up.  No  one  was  near;  no  singer  followed 
the  narrow  path  from  the  house;  no  form  darkened 
the  green  meadow  beyond.  She  turned  her  face 
toward  the  orchard,  but  the  crisp  sprays  only  nodded 
and  whispered  and  fluttered,  and  the  rank,  untrodden 
grass  only  shivered  in  the  white  glow  that  sifted  down 
through  the  flower-set  boughs. 

She  stood  musing  thus,  listening  for  another  strain 
of  that  mysterious  song,  breathing  the  sweet  scents 
of  that  breeze,  dreaming  again  the  by-gone  dreams  it 
brought  her,  until  the  fiery  splendor  of  the  sunset 
faded  to  a  mellow  glory,  and  she  roused  herself  to  go 
back  to  the  house. 

One  glance  more  she  must  bestow  on  that  soft  blue 
heaven  above  her,  tinged  with  gold,  and  filled  with 
scarlet-tinted,  filmy  clouds.  She  lingered,  with  her 
eyes  fixed  afar  on  those  brilliant  deeps  of  heaven,  till 
the  dark  horizon  below  seemed  to  whirl  and  swim 


THE   FULFILMENT.  481 

around  her,  and  she  looked  down  on  the  blossoming 
world  again. 

Then  a  strange  sound  in  the  orchard  startled  her, 
and  there,  just  beside  the  fence,  standing  where  the 
apple-boughs  let  in  the  richest  light  of  sunset,  was  a 
stranger,  tall,  bearded,  travel-worn,  leaning  on  a  mossy 
stake,  and  looking  at  her  with  tender,  earnest  eyes. 
Ah,  those  eyes!  Could  she  ever  forget  them?  Could 
they  ever  cease  to  beam  with  light  for  her? 

That  weary  man,  whose  face  had  lost  much  of  its 
boyish  roundness,  much  of  its  hearty  cheer, — that 
sorrow-stricken  man,  who  had  come  from  afar,  over 
the  seas,  to  his  own  little  home  among  the  mountains, 
—  was  Edward  Dennett. 

Their  eyes  met,  and  he  knew  her.  Ay,  he  knew 
more, — he  knew  that  she  had  been  true  to  him;  he 
knew  that  her  love,  without  which  he  realized  that  his 
home-coming  would  be  touched  with  shadow,  was  his 
still. 

"Mabel!"  he  said,  hastening  toward  her,  "what  a 
welcome  is  this!  Are  you  a  spirit?  Am  I  dreaming 
that  I  find  you  here  to  welcome  me?  I  could  not 
realize  it, — I  cannot  believe  it !  "  Mabel  held  out  both 
her  hands  across  the  fence  to  the  strong  brown  ones 
that  waited  ready  to  clasp  them. 

"  Can  you  believe  it  now?  "  she  said,  striving  to  speak 
calmly  through  her  tears. 

Edward  hurriedly  sprang  over  the  fence,  and  stood 
at  her  side.  "Nothing  must  separate  us  now,"  he  said, 
as  he  took  her  in  his  arms,  —  "  nothing  but  death,  my 
Mabel,  for  I  can  believe  it;  I  can  believe  that,  now  I 
am  free  to  live,  —  free  to  live,  thank  Heaven !  —  I  still 


482  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

have  something  to  live  for.  Ah,  Mabel  I  little  the  world 
held  for  me  without  your  love!  " 

"Then  you  are  free?"  said  Mabel,  timidly. 

" Don't  you  know?"  he  inquired,  hastily.  "Have 
you  not  heard  how  the  secret  was  divulged?  It  must 
be  old  to  every  one  but  me." 

"  I  did  not  know  —  "  began  Mabel. 

"Ah!  then  I  will  not  tell  you  until  I  rejoice  over  the 
greatest  blessing  life  can  ever  hold  for  me,  —  the  assur 
ance  that  you  love  me  still  through  all  depths  of  mis 
fortune  and  disgrace.  I  was  restored  to  my  home,  I 
was  blessed  with  riches,  for  untold  wealth  lies  buried 
in  the  Golden  Deep,  and  yet  until  this  hour  life  has 
looked  dull  and  colorless  indeed.  I  count  my  trials 
joys  for  this.  Without  them  I  should  not  have  known 
how  true  and  changeless  your  affection  is." 

"  Do  not  say  that,"  said  Mabel.  "  Did  it  need  test 
ing  before  you  could  trust  in  it?  I  kept  my  faith  in 
yours.  Oh,  Edward!  I  never  entertained  a  thought 
during  all  our  hopeless  separation  which  could  mar  that 
meeting  when  our  lives  are  done.  That  hope  wherein 
you  and  I  found  so  much  comfort  has  kept  me  loving 
and  constant  still." 

Each  realized  that  the  other  was  changed.  They 
had  passed  through  the  fires  of  trial;,  they  had  met 
Fate  face  to  face,  and  had  defied  her,  putting  their  trust 
in  a  higher  power,  that  reigns  supreme  over  all  our 
destinies. 

If  youth  was  still  theirs,  they  knew  that  its  careless 
mirth,  its  impetuous  ardor,  was  over.  But  they  were 
better  for  it,  —  their  lives  were  broader,  deeper,  sweeter; 
they  were  man  and  woman  now,  seeing  with  eyes  that 


THE   FULFILMENT.  483 

look  beyond  the  world's  exterior  of  show,  into  the  pur 
poses,  the  aims,  of  life,  knowing  full  well  how  to  cast 
aside  its  trifling  frivolities,  and  accept  its  blessings 
with  ready,  grateful  hearts. 

Now  life  lay  before  them,  rich  in  its  opportunities, 
fair  and  promising  in  its  prospects.  They  were  young, 
but  they  were  wise.  Through  their  misfortunes  they 
had  learned  how  to  be  kind;  through  their  blessings 
they  had  learned  how.  to  be  charitable. 

"  God  is  good,"  said  Edward,  reverently,  at  last.  "He 
has  given  you  back  to  me;  he  has  given  me  my  heaven 
upon  earth;  and  for  this  blessing  we  must  spend  our 
lives  in  giving  of  our  abundance  to  others.  Oh,  Mabel! 
little  did  I  think  the  fulfilment  of  your  promise  would 
come  so  soon,  —  that  dear,  sweet  promise  to  meet  me 
in  heaven,  filled  to  the  very  letter  here  on  earth,  —  'And 
when  at  last  he  reaches  home,  tell  him  my  love  will 
be  waiting  for  him  there.' " 


484  AROUND  THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

THE  MILLENNIUM   OF  THE   HEART. 

Devotion  wafts  the  mind  above, 
But  heaven  itself  descends  in  love; 
A  feeling  from  the  Godhead  caught, 
To  wean  from  self  each  sordid  thought; 
A  ray  of  Him  who  formed  the  whole; 
A  glory  circling  round  the  soul. 

BYRON. 

IN  the  pleasant  valley  county,  where  the  low,  rolling 
slopes  are  bright  in  spring  and  summer  with  billowy 
seas  of  green  and  ripening  gold;  where  the  little  towns 
scattered  about  over  the  broad  expanse  of  the  great 
wheat  regions  hide  their  gleaming  spires  in  forests  of 
cork  and  locust  trees;  where  the  noisy  trains  rumble 
hastily  along,  busily  collecting  their  burdens  of  plump, 
clean  sacks  of  wheat  from  every  wayside  station;  and 
where  the  broad  country  roads  lead  in  a  curious  net 
work  to  farm  colonies,  with  a  cluster  of  neat  houses, 
high,  spacious  barns,  and  golden  or  weather-darkened 
stacks  of  straw,  forming  the  centre  of  broad  acres 
stretching  out  in  vast,  unbroken  tracks, — in  that 
almost  boundless  empire  of  golden  grain,  Lois  found 
her  home. 

The  occasional  stranger  who  wandered  into  the  rural 
shades  of  Locustville  invariably  asked  who  owned  that 
fine  old  place  just  outside  the  town  on  the  road  to 
Tenayce,  and  the  villager  would  reply  with  a  good  deal 


THE   MILLENNIUM   OF   THE   HEART.  485 

of  pride,  as  if  he  had  a  personal  claim  upon  it,  that  Dr. 
Knapp  and  his  family  lived  there.  Dr.  Knapp  was 
"  our  doctor,"  and  the  place  was  absolutely  the  most 
exquisite,  comfortable  home  in  all  the  country 

The  house  stood  back  a  little  distance  from  the  trav 
elled  road,  from  which  a  smooth,  gravelled  drive  swept 
through  an  arched  gateway  and  across  the  dewy  green 
ness  of  the  grounds,  till  it  curved  up  to  the  wide  side 
entrance.  The  house  was  large,  square-built,  and  home 
like,  with  old-fashioned  porches  and  balconies  extend 
ing  all  around  it,  suggestive  of  balmy  summer  evenings, 
with  guitars  and  white-robed  ladies  making  little 
poems  of  the  hours  spent  in  their  vine-scented  shelter. 
Oleander  and  acacia  trees  blended  their  tropical  odors 
with  the  fragrant  breath  of  roses,  wild  beds  of  migno 
nette,  and  a  hedge  of  honeysuckle,  and  over  on  one  side 
of  the  grounds  a  sparkling  path  led  down  across  the 
shaven  lawn  to  a  wild  bramble  of  bloom,  where  the 
flowers  and  bushes  ran  riot,  and  blossomed  in  charm 
ing  disorder  wherever  a  bud  could  manage  to  shake  out 
its  rosy  petals  to  the  kisses  of  the  sun. 

Something  about  this  luxuriant  tangle  might  remind 
one  of  Mrs.  Ilunman's  queer  old  garden,  but  Dr.  Knapp 
certainly  liked  his  own  shady  bower  far  better  than 
the  one  from  which  he  modelled  it.  And  whoever  won 
dered  at  it,  when  during  the  drowsy  summer  after 
noons,  while  the  day  grew  warm  and  the  teams  out  on 
the  road  rolled  by  only  at  long  intervals,  and  then 
chose  the  track  under  the  wayside  trees,  they  saw  the 
Doctor  enjoying  the  dreamy  shade  of  that  fragrant  spot 
in  some  comfortable  old  wicker  chair,  or  half  reclining 
in  a  gently  swaying  hammock,  while  Lois  —  the  very 


486  ABOUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

same  bright  little  school-mistress  who  used  to  teach  in 
the  red  school-house  tit  Locustvilie,  grown  older  cer 
tainly,  though  not  less  charming  and  lovely — read  some 
idle,  sweet  romance  to  while  away  the  hours?  Chil 
dren's  merry  faces  and  gleeful  laughter  broke  in  upon 
that  sleepy  peace  just  enough  to  bring  the  time  and 
place  out  of  some  old  Arcadian  land  of  poets'  dreams 
into  the  sparkling  light  of  breathing,  joyous  reality. 
Ah!  who  could  dwell  in  a  shadowy  past,  when  there 
were  two  round-limbed,  sweet-faced  children  about 
them,  fluttering  here  and  there  among  the  glowing 
leaves,  reaching  up  with  soft,  dainty  hands  to  force 
some  bud  into  premature  bloom,  or  exhibiting  tearfully 
a  thorn-rent  frill  of  lace  on  their  cool  white  frocks? 

The  wanton  breezes  sometimes  idly  turned  a  leaf  of 
the  painted  picture-books,  or  blew  a  glossy  curl  into  a 
tangle  of  spun  silk,  thereby  calMng  forth  from  rosy, 
pouting  lips  an  impatient  little  laugh,  which  rang  out 
so  full  and  clear  as  to  scare  away  the  gray  linnets  Hit 
ting  among  the  branches. 

And  if  ever,  when  the  full  glory  of  summer  had 
come,  a  faint  high  hissing  of  a  bee  recalled  to  the  Doc 
tor  a  sorrowful  summer  day  long  ago  when  he  had  heard 
that  selfsame  sound  high  up  in  the  leaves  of  the  apple- 
tree  which  grew  in  Mrs.  Hunman's  garden,  and  it 
brought  back  a  remembrance  of  the  old  heartache  he 
had  accepted  as  his  portion  then,  he  banished  the 
thought  by  a  glance  at  Lois,  —  kind,  merry-hearted 
Lois,  —  sitting  near  him  with  a  look  of  love  which  the 
years  had  added  on  her  fair  face,  whose  earthly  jour 
ney  now  led  step  by  step  with  his.  Why  should  he 
return,  even  in  thought,  to  that  other  garden,  marred 


THE   MILLENNIUM   OF   THE    HEART.  487 

by  the  memory  of  a  heartache,  when  here  around  him 
was  another  bower,  as  wild  and  sweet  and  tangled, 
which  not  only  encompassed  all  the  delightful  associa 
tions  of  the  other,  but  held  a  charm  besides,  born  of 
the  long,  delightful  years,  which  could  never  be  effaced? 

Behind  that  fine  white  house,  and  across  a  shadowy 
back  garden,  where  the  grape-vines  ran  in  riotous  fes 
toons  over  the  arching  trees,  a  commodious  barn  re 
vealed  a  patch  of  its  sloping  roof.  Whoever  ventured 
out  of  the  cool,  grassy  precincts  of  the  garden  for  a 
nearer  glimpse  of  it  felt  that  the  cows  and  horses  had 
not  been  deprived  of  many  of  the  good  things  this 
world  could  afford  them,  when  looking  upon  the  well- 
stored  granary,  the  gravel-bottomed  tank  overflowing 
with  pure,  clear  water,  and  the  stacks  of  hay  that 
preserved  in  their  gold-green  masses  the  fading  hues 
and  the  fresh,  sweet  scent  of  the  blooming  pasture- 
lands.  And  even  the  doves  that  described  white  cir 
cles  against  the  far-off  blue  of  heaven,  and  gathered 
with  incessant  cooing  around  the  little  dove-cot  below 
the  eaves,  seemed  telling  their  contentment  in  those 
soft,  low  sounds.  Then  there  was  the  poultry-yard, 
whence  elarion  crows  in  the  early  morning  hours  rang 
out  to  wake  the  soft- voiced,  bright-eyed  calves  in  the 
barn,  and  mingle  their  faint,  far  sounds  with  the 
dreams  of  the  slumberers  in -the  distant  house. 

But  of  all  the  favored  occupants  of  the  barn-yard 
regions,  Lady  Snowdrop  was  the  queen.  She  had  a 
etall  in  the  clean,  warm  stables,  where  her  crib  over 
flowed  with  cured  meadow-grass  and  barley-hay  and 
grain,  and  every  morning  the  hostler  curried  and  rubbed 
her  till  her  white  coat  shone  as  glossjly  as  satin. 


488  AROUND    THE    GOLDEX   DEEP. 

The  Doctor  still  drove  about  over  the  country  roads 
in  his  odd  little  shiny  gig.  And  Lois,  as  might  be 
imagined,  went  with  him  very  often. 

And  there  were  often  journeys  to  Lois's  old  loved 
home  among  the  far-off  hills,  for  a  visit  to  Aunt  Robin 
son  and  the  girls.  But  the  "girls"  gradually  became 
fewer  and  fewer  in  the  old  house,  as  one  after  another 
called  Lois  and  the  sympathetic  Doctor  into  high  con 
sultation  about  a  prospective  wedding,  and  at  last 
became  queens  in  homes  of  their  own.  Still,  the  warm 
fireside  never  lost  its  charm,  —  never  lacked  for  the  old 
familiar  faces;  for  when  Christmas-tide  brought  its 
frosty  winds,  its  whitened  summits,  and  sparkling 
pines,  it  also  brought  a  grand  home-coming,  —  a  sweet 
reunion  to  all  the  tender  hearts  that  never  lost  their 
love  for  home. 

John  used  to  do  the  honors  on  those  glorious  feast- 
days, — the  same  mischievous  John,  with  the  old  merry 
twinkle  in  his  eyes,  only  the  experience  and  prosperity 
of  years  had  added  something  of  dignity  and  gravity 
to  his  manner,  as  if  the  light-hearted  enthusiasm  of 
youth  had  not  perished,  but  had  given  place  some 
what  to  a  more  stately,  thoughtful  mein.  And  surely 
John  had  need  of  dignity,  for  after  he  had  filled  with 
honor  the  position  procured  for  him  by  the  Doctor  in 
the  mine  at  Lucky  Streak,  he  had  been  called  to  be 
manager  of  the  far  more  prosperous  mine  of  the  Golden 
Deep.  Life  held  for  him  a  bright  promise,  and  his 
grateful  heart  would  surely  use  the  blessing  for  same 
noble  end. 

And  on  those  visits  home,  Lois  and  the  Doctor  never 
failed  to  drive  again  up  the  leafy  grade  that  led  along 


THE   MILLENNIUM   OF   THE   HEART.  489 

the  mountain-side  in  wayward,  curious  windings,  till 
its  drowsy  magic  was  dispelled  by  glimpses  of  the  blue 
smoke-wreaths  and  the  shiny  roofs  of  the  new  camp 
at  Lucky  Streak,  breaking  suddenly  upon  the  sight 
between  the  pine-grown  hills.  To  their  hearts  those 
deep,  wild  canons,  the  plumy-pointed  firs,  the  glinting 
pine  woods,  the  rugged  stream-bed,  and  the  soft  blue 
dome  of  heaven  arching  all  around  them,  held  a  charm 
the  very  deepest  and  sweetest  in  their  lives.  They 
always  loved  it  best  in  autumn,  when  the  red  leaves 
showered  the  ground  with  October's  gorgeous  offering; 
when  the  sparkling  frost-work  spread  out  its  wonderful 
white  patterns  in  the  shadow,  and  turned  to  diamonds 
where  the  sunshine's  golden  floods  poured  warm  and 
mellow  through  the  trembling  leaves.  It  recalled  to 
them  that  sacred  day  of  long  ago, — that  starting-point 
of  their  happy  life-long  journey.  And  even  Lady 
Snowdrop  seemed  to  appreciate  the  time,  for  she  al 
ways  trotted  leisurely  along  as  if  she  loved  the  soli 
tude  and  the  dreamy  spell  around  them,  and  feared 
to  break  it  with  unseemly  speed. 

These  peaceful  drives  always  brought  them  to  a 
pleasant  destination.  Just  outside  of  the  town  of 
Lucky  Streak,  grown  large  and  noisy  with  the  lapse 
of  time,  and  proud  of  its  fine  brick  stores,  its  new 
hotel,  and  its  slender  church-spires  pointing  heaven 
ward  through  the  unthinned  pine  groves,  was  a  pleas 
ant  home,  where  Edward  Dennett  and  his  young  wife 
lived.  All  that  wealth  could  purchase  was  combined 
to  make  that  stately  country-house  a  dwelling-place  of 
elegance  and  comfort;  and  yet  it  possessed  more,  —  for 
in  it  breathed  the  charm  and  inspiration  of  a  home. 


490  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN  DEEP. 

Mabel  reigned  a  gentle  queen  o\er  her  happy  house 
hold,  while  Mrs.  Dennett  and  Aunt  Willis  looked  on 
with  motherly  pride,  and  gave  their  advice  to  smooth 
out  the  rough  places. 

Edward  Dennett  had  risen  rapidly  to  the  foremost 
rank  in  his  county,  and  the  old  troubles  which  had 
once  cast  a  cloud  over  his  honored  name  almost  faded 
out  of  memory. 

Among  the  guests  who  sometimes  visited  that  lovely 
mountain  home  was  a  slender  woman  with  auburn 
hair  and  a  fine  white  face.  The  years  scarcely  seemed 
to  make  any  impression  on  her  countenance;  she  was 
ever  the  same,  —  as  willowy  and  sly  as  in  her  more 
charming  girlhood.  She  still  wrote  her  name  Nellie 
Minton,  adding  with  a  low  ripple  of  laughter  to  her 
self  sometimes  when  she  did  it,  that  there  was  only 
one  other  name  in  the  world  better  than  that.  Time 
had  wrought  one  change  in  Nellie,  —  her  scheming 
days  were  over.  To  be  sure,  she  was  deceitful  and 
wilful  still,  and  yet  she  had  given  up  utterly  —  as 
defeated  schemers  usually  do  —  all  hope  of  attaining 
the  one  life  object  she  had  striven  so  desperately,  by 
artful  means,  to  attain.  There  was  a  calm  indifference 
in  the  place  of  the  old  cunning  watchfulness,  only 
broken  by  an  occasional  revival  of  crafty  delight  in 
unfathoming  some  mystery  her  curiosity  prompted  her 
to  explore. 

Edward  and  Mabel  felt  a  strange  sympathy  for  her 
lonely  hopelessness,  and  in  various  ways  showed  her 
little  kindnesses,  which,  coming  from  the  source  they 
did,  awakened  all  the  friendship  that  dwelt  in  her 
narrow,  selfish  nature.  Poor  Nellie!  her  life  was  de- 


THE   MILLENNIUM   OF   THE   HEART.  491 

prived  of  its  fullest  expansion;  but  it  was  better  so. 
Her  artful  practices  had  failed  in  her  greatest  earthly 
object,  and  so  even  she  herself  had  lost  faith  in  their 
power.  She  was  better  for  it. 

But  the  most  welcome  guests  of  all  to  Edward  Den 
nett's  home  were  Lois  and  the  Doctor.  The  truest, 
strongest  friendship  bound  these  friends  together,  which 
could  never  be  broken,  as  Mabel  used  to  declare  very 
earnestly  to  Lois,  "  for  it  was  through  you,  my  dear, 
that  our  troubles  were  unravelled,  and  we  have  our 
happy  home  to-day." 

To  many  a  home  the  Doctor's  charitable  hand  and 
Lois's  sympathetic  heart  brought  a  blessing.  That 
noticeable  little  rig  coming  along  the  road  was  always 
a  signal  for  rejoicings,  since  every  one  was  happier  in 
more  or  less  degree  for  its  existence.  And  they  who 
in  those  later  days  saw  Dr.  Knapp  and  his  charming 
wife  driving  about  over  those  hot  dusty  roads,  yet  look 
ing  eo  comfortable  iind  happy  in  spite  of  all  things  dis 
agreeable,  often  wondered  that  they  did  not  foresee 
this  pleasant  future  when  the  school-mistress  first  con 
sented  to  drive  over  to  the  hospital  with  the  Doctor 
in  his  little  gig.  And  yet  was  it  not  the  most  natural 
and  the  best  possible  ending?  Certainly  it  seemed 
rather  too  bad  that  Lois  had  to  give  up  her  school,  but 
then  of  course  she  could  not  be  expected  to  teach  al 
ways.  And  her  especial  children  did  not  miss  her  very 
sorely,  since  their  Saturdays  were  often  devoted  to  a 
regular  festal  time  over  at  the  pretty  white  country- 
house  which  Lois  now  called  home.  And  she  never 
lost  her  influence  over  them,  even  after  they  grew  to 
be  fine,  manly  lads  taller  than  herself,  or  slim,  dainty 


402  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

girls  assuming  the   airs  and  graces   of  young   lady 
hood. 

And  what  mattered  it  if  Lady  Snowdrop  was  slow, — • 
if  she  grew  lazier  and  more  independent  as  well  as  older 
every  day?  Did  not  they  who  rode  behind  her  then 
have  a  longer  hour  to  spend  together  on  their  drive,— 
an  hour  which  held  so  much  of  bliss  for  both  their 
hearts?  Naught  could  make  them  wish  to  have  it 
changed,  since  often  when  this  very  fault  made  them 
late  on  their  return,  and  the  gathering  evening  shades 
found  them  still  upon  the  road,  the  balmy  freshness, 
the  quiet  charm,  that  stole  around  them,  recalled  some 
thing  of  the  beauty  of  those  first  drives  they  had  taken 
in  the  early  spring-time  of  their  love,  and  brought  back 
its  modest,  tender  inspiration,  like  the  dewy  fragrance 
of  the  April  blossom  amid  the  summer's  ripe,  delicious 
harvest. 

Every  feature  of  those  old  scenes  had  a  meaning  for 
Lois  and  the  Doctor:  under  those  solitary  oaks  Lady 
Snowdrop  used  to  stop  and  fall  asleep  in  the  drowsy 
shade,  while  the  Doctor  watched  the  birds,  and  looked 
out  over  the  rolling  hills,  yellow  with  the  summer's 
ripened  crown,  through  the  meshes  of  a  dream  which 
strained  all  evil  and  unrest  out  of  the  charmed  life  he 
led;  over  on  that  slope  when  the  spring's  green  young 
grasses  matted  the  earth  with  soft  and  fragrant  folds 
of  nature's  velvets,  they  used  to  stop  to  watch  the  sun 
light  flash  in  diamonds,  crystal  and  purple  and  bright 
red,  from  every  trembling  dewy  spear;  here  they  could 
Bee  more  clearly  than  elsewhere  that  low  blue  line  of 
peaks  along  the  far  horizon's  rim;  and  there  they  had 
always  stopped  to  get  a  spray  of  drooping  creamy  blos 
soms  from  the  overhanging  locust-trees. 


THE   MILLENNIUM   OF   THE   HEART.  493 

Ah,  those  long,  quiet  drives!  How  they  linked  heart 
to  heart  and  soul  to  soul !  How  they  knitted  the 
tender,  haunting  melody  of  the  past  to  the  sweet  and 
far-off  harmonies  of  the  future  with  the  present's  golden 
bars  of  perfect  song!  There  were  the  Doctor  and  Lois, 
the  little  gig  and  Lady  Snowdrop,  —  all  growing  old 
together.  And  yet  again  not  growing  older,  either, 
but  growing  dearer.  Time  cannot  touch  with  its  fatal 
decay  the  sacred  objects  about  which  our  love  wraps  a 
halo  of  glory  as  impenetrable  as  it  is  magical. 

Lois  grew  to  think  the  big  tall  whip  which  the  Doc 
tor  never  used,  and  which  she  had  once  thought  looked 
like  a  fishing-rod  angling  in  the  green  branches  for 
bees  or  humming-birds,  —  she  actually  came  to  think 
it  looked  far  better  than  those  slender,  willowy  things, 
with  tasselled  ends,  that  graced  the  stylish  turnouts  of 
the  time. 

Nor  was  she  ashamed  that  the  Doctor  always  wore 
his  yellow  gloves.  She  did  not  grow  so  accustomed  to 
the  sight  of  them  that  she  forgot  that  they  were  odd; 
but  she  was  even  glad  of  the  fact.  A  depth  of  fondness 
in  her  heart  welled  over  every  time  she  saw  them,  for 
they  seemed  a  token  to  her  of  the  Doctor's  innocent, 
unselfish  character.  And  besides,  she  felt  so  penitent 
when  she  remembered  how  she  once  had  laughed  at 
them,  that  she  felt  all  her  tenderness  could  never 
make  atonement  for  it. 

And  so,  when  sometimes  the  Doctor  came  home 
from  town  with  a  pair  of  new  gloves,  and  carelessly 
tossing  them  into  her  lap,  would  say,  innocently,  that 
the  old  ones  were  badly  soiled,  and  he  thought  it 
about  time  to  replace  them,  so  would  she  see  if  these 


494  AROUND   THE   GOLDEN   DEEP. 

were  as  good  as  the  old,  quite  unconscious  that  he  had 
done  or  said  anything  unusual,  or  that  she  was  smil 
ing  to  keep  the  tears  of  love  from  overflowing,  she 
always  touched  them  reverently,  and  said  softly  to 
herself,  "  The  dear  old  soul  1  I  love  them  better  every 
time  he  brings  them."  And  she  even  kissed  them 
sometimes  when  the  Doctor  was  not  around,  as  if  to 
give  them  a  benediction  from  her  love. 

The  Doctor  scarcely  appeared  to  grow  much  older; 
he  became  a  trifle  stouter  with  advancing  years,  per 
haps  a  shade  more  florid;  but  his  eyes  were  clear  and 
steady,  and  his  manner  so  much  more  jovial  and 
cheerful  than  of  old,  that  the  added  silver  to  his 
glossy  hair  seemed  more  like  the  foreshadowings  of  a 
second  youth's  soft  glories  than  the  cold  warning  of  a 
hastening  old  age.  And  truly  life  had  just  begun  its 
best  blessings  for  him.  Why  should  he  grow  old,  when 
youth's  delights,  which  he  had  never  known  before, 
were  all  around  him?  His  heart  was  in  its  summer, 
so  let  the  long  years  of  experience  and  sorrow  fall 
away  and  be  forgotten.  The  present  was  enough  for 
him.  "  A  man  scarcely  knows  what  he  lacks — what 
he  needs — in  this  world,  until  he  has  once  found  it," 
he  would  say.  "It  is  strange  how  one  prospers  when 
he  settles  down  in  life.  Everything  tends  to  his  ad 
vantage  then.  Perhaps  because  a  little  secure  happi 
ness  sweetens  every  burden  in  the  way;  if  not,  then 
whatever  else,  it  is  strong  enough  to  be  recognized  and 
felt;  and  we  who  have  found  that  great  advantage 
would  not  exchange  it  for  anything  else  the  world 
contains." 

Ah!   who  can   put  a  price  upon   it,  —  that   sacred 


THE    MILLENNIUM    OF   THE    HEART.  495 

thing  which  brings  us  nearer  heaven?  Can  tongues 
or  pens  describe  it?  Can  deep  research  explain  it? 
Can  sordid  wealth  purchase  an  iota  of  it?  It  tinges 
all  life  with  its  rosy  halo;  it  strengthens  the  aspi 
rations,  it  sweetens  every  sorrow,  it  deepens  every 
joy.  No  one  can  feel  it  without  being  better;  no 
one  can  let  it  truly  enter  his  heart  without  letting  in 
with  it  self-sacrifice  and  charity.  Oh,  holy  Love! 
most  divine,  most  powerful  of  the  passions,  a  light 
from  heaven  to  illuminate  the  soul,  come  to  each 
lonely,  unsatisfied  heart  on  earth,  and  heal  its  sor 
rows  with  thy  matchless  riches,  and  the  world  will  be 
a  glorious  place  indeed! 

Then  will  there  be  no  more  perversion  of  love's 
blessings;  then  they  who  sacrifice  it  to  frivolities  and 
vice,  they  who  hold  it  lightly,  they  who  know  it  not, 
will  realize  the  dawning  of  the  golden  age  of  peace 
and  charity,  —  the  sweet  millennium  of  the  heart. 


RETURN  CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

202  Main  Library  642-3403 


LOAN  PERIOD  1 

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LIBRARY  USE 

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